Job Hunting for Psychopaths
by SkywardShadow
Summary: Ryo's had enough. As much as it pains him to release Bakura on the free and unsuspecting world, that thief is going to find himself a job whether he likes it or not. Let the chaos ensue. *Complete!*
1. Prologue: The Ultimatum

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of the characters therein. Or the line about alerting the media. Don't sue.

**A/N: Moshi moshi! I'm back, with another chaotic Bakurafic. Before we get started, I must thank DeathMax-kun for helping me out yet again with insane ideas for this story; arigato gozaimasu! **

**Hope y'all enjoy!**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Prologue**

…

"I've had it," Ryo announced. He glanced sideways to see if his yami, who was in the middle of watching a disturbing-sounding horror movie on demand, had heard him.

He hadn't. Either that or he was simply ignoring Ryo, which was also quite possible.

Ryo frowned and spoke a little louder. "Bakura," he said pointedly. "I have had _enough_."

The emphasis didn't do a thing. Bakura continued to remain engrossed in his horror movie. Ryo winced as a terrible squelching noise followed by a scream erupted from his television, but he'd long since learned not to peek at whatever Bakura was watching: nine times out of ten, it pushed Ryo to sleep with the lights on.

"Bakura. _Bakura_!"

The older male continued to laugh away at a scene that would probably give any sane person nightmares. Fed up, Ryo reached over and managed to turn the TV off without catching a glimpse of what was playing on it. That caught his yami's attention.

"Hey!" Bakura snapped. "She was just about to-"

"_Do not_ tell me," Ryo interrupted.

"But it was right in the middle of eating-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Ryo yelped, fighting down horrible mental images and trying to remember why he had spoken up in the first place. Oh, right: Having enough.

"Yes, as I was saying. I have had enough."

"Good for you," Bakura replied sardonically. "I'll be sure to alert the media."

Frowning, Ryo willed himself not to be dragged into an unwinnable argument and stayed on track. "In case my implication wasn't clear enough, _you_ are what I have had enough of."

"Ouch," was the sarcastic reply.

"More specifically, the havoc you wreak," Ryo continued. "You torment the neighbor's pets. You traumatize telemarketers. You _blow up_ my _house_," he added forcefully.

"It was only a little fire damage!" Bakura protested.

"Your definition of 'a little fire damage' cost me a ridiculous amount in the form of repair bills. And then there was the whole fiasco with the kittens over fall, along with all the doctor and dentist bills that followed-"

"Is there a point to this, or is this your way of begging me to send you to the Shadows?" Bakura cut him off irritably.

"Yes, there is a point," Ryo responded huffily. "I've been thinking about this for a few weeks now, and all things considered it seems like my only option. Besides sending you to an asylum, of course, but I shudder to imagine what you could come up with in the company of a bunch of fellow nutcases. _Anyway_.." He inhaled.

"I've decided that you need to get a job."

Bakura blinked. Once. Twice. Then several times in quick succession.

"Either my hearing is going or you have come out to yourself about being a masochist."

Ryo smirked, glad he had finally gotten his dark side to take this seriously. "As much as it pains me to unleash you on the free and unsuspecting world, it's the lesser of two evils. At least under the watchful eye of a supervisor you won't be able to make anything explode."

"If you think for one second that I am going to just go along with this," Bakura seethed, "then you are sadly mistaken."

Ryo merely smiled at this. "I've already asked around; there are plenty of job openings around here right now. You can't sit on my sofa forever."

"Like hell I can't!"

"I'm giving you an opportunity to choose a job yourself," Ryo pressed. "You should be thanking me."

The thief snorted. "Thank you, my-"

"I'd start by checking the Wanted ads," the lighter of the two steamrolled. "You can start tomorrow."

"What makes you think I'm going to-"

"Because if you don't," Ryo interrupted gleefully, "then I'm going to invite Atem to stay with us for a few weeks."

Bakura's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

Deciding this didn't merit a response, the thief tried a different tact. "The blasted Pharaoh lives with his precious hikari."

"Yugi's visiting family in America, and Atem didn't want to intrude. Yugi won't be back for awhile, and I'm sure his yami would be all too happy for the company." Ryo folded his arms and allowed himself a satisfied grin.

Bakura cast Ryo a look that clearly said he would like nothing more than to disembowel him with a spoon. They stared at each other for several long moments before Bakura spat the word "Fine."

He turned the television back on and restarted his horror movie, mentally replacing the shrieking girl with his dear hikari.

**TBC**

**A/N: This is going to be fun for me. Hopefully it'll be so for you as well!**


	2. Chapter One: Blackmail and Beeping

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, TYVM.

**A/N: Thanks to Always a Bookworm, Ultimate Ending, lovenyami, consumedbylove, Bffy519 and gaarafangirl91!! Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**Oh, one important thing: For this fic, ****all the yamis and hikaris have separate bodies.**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter One**

…

Bakura figured Ryo's demand would be easy enough to get around. After all, the kid left for school at an ungodly-seeming hour of the morning; who was to stop Bakura from lazing around all day like he normally did?

The answer turned out to be not a 'who', but a 'what'. A very obnoxious 'what'. Bakura was roused from sleep the following morning by an obscenely loud, high-pitched (oh, how he hated high-pitched noises) beeping.

At first he buried his head in his pillow and attempted to ignore it, but quickly found that venture impossible and switched to hunting for the source of the incessant noise. His eyes, scanning the room, happened to glance upon the digital clock on his table, which read a horrible time of five-thirty AM.

_Wait. I don't __**own**__ a digital clock._

He leaned closer to the alien device and sure enough, that was where the beeping was coming from. Now, how to turn it off..

The thief was in the midst of pressing random buttons in the hope that one of them would _make the noise stop_ when Ryo walked in, looking disgustingly cheerful.

"Good morning!" he said in a tone that would sound bright to most people but to Bakura bordered on sadistic.

"Don't you 'good morning' me," he growled. "I know you had something to do with this, now tell me how to make it stop or I will rip out your insides in the most painful way I know how."

Privately wondering what the _least_ painful method would feel like, Ryo complied and hit the magic button. The beeping ceased. Bakura reminded himself that this was why he let his hikari live. Without a word he laid back down with every intention of going straight back to sleep, but Ryo was having none of it.

"Oh no you don't," he said sternly. "You're going job hunting today, remember?"

"At five thirty in the damn morning?!" Bakura snapped incredulously. "Like hell!"

"If you want to beat the rush, then yes. If you don't apply first, you'll never get chosen. Not with your credentials."

"_What_ credentials?" Bakura asked in the same disbelieving tone.

"Exactly," Ryo replied dryly.

Bakura rolled his eyes, extremely irritated by how this morning was progressing so far. "I am _not_ going job hunting before the sun is even close to coming up. In fact, you can consider yourself lucky if I decide to go at all."

Ryo raised an eyebrow. "Really. You won't mind having Atem as a houseguest for awhile, then."

The thief's eye twitched horribly, but he weighed his options and forced himself to shake his head. "You can't blackmail me into this one, Ryo."

Ryo smiled sweetly and turned to leave the room. "Very well then." He paused in the doorway. "Oh, I almost forgot. I don't have a spare bedroom, so he'll have to share yours."

Bakura waited exactly half a second before bolting from the bed and spinning his hikari around by the shoulders. "Is this a _joke_?!" he snapped. "Make him sleep on the floor!"

"You sound like a petulant child," Ryo informed him coolly. "And I am _not_ making a guest sleep on the floor."

Bakura suddenly had a horrible sinking feeling.

"Ready to begin your career now?" Ryo inquired slyly.

Bakura swore loudly and went to get dressed.

Ryo watched him go with a wide smile on his face.

**TBC**

**A/N: Okay, before you shoot me, I know there was no jobhunting in this chapter, but I had to set things up properly. The real chaos shall begin next chap, promise. ^.^**


	3. Chapter Two: Shelving and Stealing

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and not being sued would make my day! Thanks! ^^

**A/N: TYVM Always a Bookworm, Bakura's Guardian Angel, Sempiternal Goddess, yami'sguardian, YamiBakura1998, consumedbylove and gaarafangirl91!!**

**I just want to set this straight early on: When I say 'Malik', I am referring to the yami, whereas 'Marik' is the hikari.**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter Two**

…

Grumbling to himself, Bakura wandered the streets of Domino looking for the place Ryo had mentioned.

"Domino Groceries needs help," he'd said earlier. "At this point they'd take almost anybody."

_Charming,_ Bakura thought sarcastically as the cold wind chilled his face. _I don't exactly think highly of you either, you jumped-up little…ah. There it is._

Trying to look casual while his body screeched at him to get out of cold, he strode into the store. After a few minutes of searching he found the customer service desk and expertly elbowed his way to the front of the line.

"I want a job," he told the desk worker bluntly.

_And so it begins,_ he noted to himself.

…

As it turned out, Ryo was right: Domino Groceries was desperate, desperate enough to take even an impolite young man with less-than-zero experience.

Bakura's 'supervisor,' a perky teenager named Amabe, had been instructed to put his charge on shelving duty first.

"It's the easiest job in the whole store," he assured his rookie. "You can't possibly mess it up."

_If I didn't need this job then I'd take that as a personal challenge,_ Bakura returned silently.

"See that green door way in the back of the store?" Amabe continued, pointing. "Just go in there, see what needs to be shelved, then bring it out here and find where it needs to go. All of our aisles are pretty clearly marked; you should be able to find everything quickly. If you need me, I'll be doing cashier duty. Register sixteen." With a grin he walked off.

Bakura blinked a few times, then shrugged and headed towards the distinctive green door. _Hn, this does sound relatively easy. I'm being paid just to put things on shelves? They're __**giving**__ their money away.._

He entered the room and left it a minute later with an armful of fruit. He wandered around aimlessly until he found the "fresh produce" section, and then took a look at the top of his stash.

_An apple,_ he observed, looking around. _Aha. There._

It went on like that for a while. Due to the early hour there were few customers, meaning he hardly had to deal with people at all. He returned to the back room a few times and came back with more fruit. He ended up dropping an entire armful of pears at one point and walked away from the scene as quickly as possible; how was he to know what was was considered a firing offense?

The next trip left him with a bunch of cereal boxes. By this point he had (finally) discovered that the aisle names were written on giant signs hanging from the ceiling, and followed those to the appropriate aisle.

_What a stupid system, _he thought as he walked. _Putting signs on the ceiling..__**anyone**__ would miss them. Put signs on the floor, for Ra's sake; otherwise you might as well put up signs showing you where to find the signs.._

As he was shelving the cereal boxes his stomach grumbled loudly. With a frown Bakura recalled his appalling lack of breakfast, thanks to Ryo's infuriating wake-up call.

His stomach growled again. Bakura held up the last cereal box he was supposed to shelve, gave it a once-over and shrugged. The he ripped it open and started shoving dry cereal into his mouth. _Free food. Certainly a perk for this job._

"You're not supposed to do that."

Bakura looked up from his lunch to see an older man in a business suit frowning at him.

"Excuse me?" he inquired in a saccharine way.

The older man's frown deepened. "You're not supposed to eat the cereal like that," he clarified. "It's unsanitary. It's also stealing."

"How do you know I haven't paid for this?" Bakura responded.

The man looked slightly taken aback. "Have you?"

A smirk. "No."

"Then it's stealing."

"And I should care _why_?" Bakura asked, quickly growing bored with the exchange. He just wanted to eat his cereal in peace.

The man was outright scowling now. "I'm telling the manager about this, young man."

The thief waved him off. "Have fun with that." The man left and a satisfied Bakura returned to eating his unpaid-for cereal. Once finished he wiped the crumbs off his face, dropped the box on the floor and started to head back to the green door, but he hadn't even taken two steps when someone else decided to assault him.

"Excuse me?"

Bakura turned, frowning. It was a plump woman with a small child. "What do you want?" he asked bluntly.

The woman appeared not to notice his intentional rudeness. "I saw you shelving things before, so you work here, don't you? Would you mind telling me where the frozen desserts aisle is?"

Bakura raised an eyebrow and ran his gaze appraisingly over the woman's body before stating, "I think you could stand to cut down on the desserts, quite frankly."

The woman's face went alarmingly red.

"Furthermore," Bakura continued, "there are signs all over the ceiling of this establishment telling you where everything is. I assume you can read?"

The woman's little girl looked up and scowled. "Leave my mommy alone!" she squeaked.

Bakura looked down at the child and stared her in the eye with the most insane gaze he could muster. He knew that people found it, at the least, unsettling.

Sure enough, after five seconds of being faced with 'The Psychopath Look', as Malik had once dubbed it, the girl began to sniffle. She buried her face in her mother's shoulder as the woman glared at Bakura.

"The manager is going to hear about this, you snot," she snapped. "You'll be fired before you can so much as blink!"

And she stormed off. Bakura thought about his work so far, and the people he had so far angered, and decided that it had been a productive day.

…

Maybe unforeseen circumstances had stopped both the man in the suit and the fat lady from ratting Bakura out to the manager, or maybe his avoidance of a rebuke was due to the fact that for the remainder of the day he dove behind the nearest shopping cart whenever another employee came within range. Either way, he managed not to get himself fired on the first day and at about noon Amabe came to tell him his shift was over.

Bakura walked back to Ryo's house, satisfied with himself. This was going to be a breeze; a good bargain to avoid having to share the same oxygen as the Pharaoh.

He opened the door, fully intending to rub his success in his meddling hikari's face.

Instead he found himself staring at Atem.

It was safe to say his metaphorical jaw hit the floor.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he spat, composing himself.

Atem looked up at him. "Ryo asked me to stay until Yugi gets back," he explained in a maddeningly calm tone. "Why? Is there a problem?"

Deciding not to dignify that with an answer, Bakura stormed past his enemy and found Ryo in his bedroom.

"Get him out," he snapped without preamble. "Now."

Ryo smiled. "I couldn't very well leave him home by himself," he said innocently. "Atem's still getting used to all the technology, and with Yugi gone, well..imagine if I suddenly left _you_ alone to contend with the intricacies of the modern world."

"I could manage just fine, you arrogant priss," Bakura growled before getting back on target. "The damn Pharaoh can blow himself to hell for all I care. Get rid of him."

"No. Atem and I have a bet, you see. Actually, it involves you."

Bakura's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You see," Ryo continued, "I told Atem about your job hunting situation and he found it very funny. He said he didn't think you could hold a job for a week."

Bakura scowled and was about to reply, but Ryo cut him off.

"But I have some faith in your tenacity, if nothing else," he said. "So, we made a bet. We don't know when Yugi will be back, but we know it will be at least a week. So if you can manage to keep a job for a week, then Atem's agreed to go back home and attempt to survive his hikari's absence. But if Yugi gets home and you haven't succeeded, I'm going to have a copy of my house key made so that Atem and Yugi can come over whenever they so desire."

Bakura actually felt the blood draining from his face.

"In the meantime, Atem will continue to stay with us. I've given Atem half of your room, including half of the closet." Ryo smiled. "This will be an enjoyable thing to witness."

Bakura had never wanted to kill anyone so much as Ryo then.

**TBC**

**A/N: I can think of so many ways this could go wrong…**


	4. Chapter Three: Thief and a Cash Register

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. Savvy?

**A/N: TYVM Shantih, Lily Angel of Chaos, xoxoangel23, Bakura's Guardian Angel, lovenyami, YamiBakura1998, gaarafangirl91, Always a Bookworm and scrambled-eggs-at-midnight!!**

**One last thing to set the record straight: the Ishtars live in Domino here. Thanks accepting all these irrationalities. XD**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter Three**

…

Ryo's satisfied look was about to earn him a one-way ticket to the Shadow Realm, and as Bakura didn't want to have to deal with making up excuses for why his housemate had mysteriously vanished, he made the decision to storm out of the room and get himself under control.

The livid thief made a beeline for his bedroom, threw the door open and stopped dead in his tracks.

He had the sudden sensation of being inside an episode of the Twilight Zone. His room had been divided, it seemed, by an invisible line. The right side looked like his own room except half the size, meaning all of his possessions were crammed around his bed and stacked up on top of each other.

The other side of the room had been transformed entirely. The walls had been painted a shade of deep purple and had posters taped all over them, posters featuring card and video games. A small bedside table stood on the edge of the half-room, covered with stacks of Duel Monsters cards. The window (which Bakura had previously painted over black and nailed shut in order to keep the light out) had been pried open, letting copious amounts of terrible sunlight invade the room.

While Bakura stood shell-shocked, the invader looked up from the mattress he'd plopped on the floor of his half and gave a little wave.

"You," Bakura choked out furiously, "have _destroyed_ my sanctuary."

Atem rolled his eyes. "Ryo gave me free rein. All the black was far too depressing."

Bakura searched for appropriate words to convey his rage and came up empty. "I happen to _like_ black," he managed. "Black is good. Black is dark, unhappy, and the opposite of light."

"Which is why I didn't touch your half of the room," Atem replied, casting his gaze back down to the manga in his hands. Bakura glanced at the title: _Yu-Gi-Oh!_

He decided not to ask. "You had better paint the walls over," he snapped.

"Or what?" Atem inquired without looking up.

"Or you will wake up bound, gagged, and tied to a table so high school students can dissect you for Science."

"I'm terrified," the Pharaoh said dryly. "If you want to get rid of me all you have to do is win the bet for Ryo. Although I have to say, I don't know what he was thinking when he decided to let you off the leash.."

Bakura wondered if perhaps the Ishtars had an extra room he could borrow.

…

The thief woke up to a sound he'd grown to despise: the sound of a high-pitched beeping.

Groaning, he fumbled around for the blasted alarm clock (which, again, read five-thirty AM) and hunted for the magic button. A few seconds of trial and error later, the alarm on the clock ceased.

Smirking at his victory (small though it was), Bakura lay back down and enjoyed several more hours of sleep before something subconscious woke him.

He looked at the clock, which now read a time of ten forty-five, and realized with dread that he was going to be very, very late.

…

"So, your brother has..acute narcopharyngitis? What does that even _mean_?"

"I told you, it's a disease of the liver," Bakura grumbled. "Now, I assume I'm shelving again today?"

Amabe appeared not to notice the sudden shift in the conversation and shook his head. "Um, no. We've got another new guy; he's doing shelving today. You're on cashier duty, my friend. But first, we gotta get you a nametag. I forgot to have you make one yesterday, and my supervisor almost had my head for it."

He handed Bakura a sticky nametag bearing the name Ryo Bakura (the name the thief had given when he asked for the job-that way, he figured, any wrongdoings could be blamed on his lighter side). The thief put it on his shirt uncertainly.

"Cool." Amabe grinned. "You'll be working register twelve. C'mon, I'll show you the ropes."

…

Ten minutes later Bakura was standing alone at the register, bored out of his skull. The cashier job was miserable. Nobody had showed up. He'd forgotten once again to eat that morning, but there were security cameras surrounding the checkout aisles so he couldn't even grab some of the candy bars nearby. Not to mention he hadn't had the time to destroy anything since Ryo had forced him into this whole mess; he was pretty sure he was going into withdrawal as a result.

_Somebody buy something,_ he thought morosely. _Better yet, somebody come and hold up the store-it would give me a perfect excuse to send someone to the Shadows. Anything to break this damn monotony._

Minutes passed. Nobody came. (Bakura couldn't possibly know that potential customers were being put off by his obviously evident anger and, well, general evil-ness of appearance.)

Sighing irritably, Bakura took a look around and his gaze happened to cast over the cash register sitting innocently to his right.

Three thousand years of thieving instincts kicked in. Bakura gnawed on his lip hard enough to draw blood as he surreptitiously eyed all the security cameras. _Bad idea. You'll get yourself fired and end up spending more time playing roommates with the Pharaoh._

The register almost seemed to be taunting him now. Bakura kept up his mental monologue. _Very bad idea. Cameras everywhere. You'll lose the damn job and then where will you be?_

It was getting harder by the moment to ignore his nature. _Don't break into the cash register_, he willed himself half-heartedly. _Do not break into the-oh, screw it._

In a flash he had turned to the register and had his hands all over it. It felt amazingly good to be stealing again.

_I'll never understand how those ex-smokers and ex-alcoholics do it, _he decided as he found the button that opened the machine. Paper bills and small coins gleamed up at him (well, the coins did at least) as if squealing _'Steal me! Steal me now!'_

Shrugging as if to say _They asked for it_, Bakura started grabbing as many bills as he possibly could and shoving them into his pockets.

"What are you doing?!"

The thief looked up to see a disbelieving Amabe.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he returned conversationally.

"Dude, you're-that's _stealing_, man, you shouldn't-"

"If you didn't want me taking your money then you shouldn't have made the register so easy to get into," was the matter-of-fact reply.

Amabe seemed at a loss for words, which Bakura enjoyed immensely until the boy found his voice again.

"L-Look, man, you realize you're gonna get arrested once the guards see you doing this on the footage?" he pointed out. "You'll be so screwed!"

"I cannot _begin_ to tell you how low security guards are on my list of fears," Bakura said coolly. "And furthermore-"

"Hey, you!"

"_Now_ what?" Bakura grumbled. He turned to see a security guard racing at him from the other end of the store.

"…Well, then. I quit," Bakura decided nonchalantly, shoving a few last bills into his already-overflowing pockets. He bolted from the grocery store, leaving a shocked Amabe behind him.

…

"I think that went rather well," Bakura declared upon arriving home and shaking the snow off of his jacket.

Ryo and Atem, who had been eating dinner, looked up warily.

"You think it went well?" Ryo asked with a note of apprehension. "How scared should I be?"

"I appreciate your faith in me," Bakura replied sarcastically. "For your information, all I did was outrun a security guard who's probably phoned the cops about a thief named Ryo Bakura." Smirking at his hikari's look of utmost dismay, he added, "Oh, and I also stole a few hundred dollars from the cash register. An early Christmas present to myself."

And he strutted to his room.

Ryo sank back in his chair and put his head in his hands. "This was a bad idea," he groaned in a muffled voice.

Atem reached over and patted his friend's shoulder. "I've been saying that from the beginning," he stated sympathetically.

**TBC**

**A/N: Well that didn't last long, did it? What'll Bakura try next? Hint: It involves food.**


	5. Chapter Four: Hotness and Hyenas

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Shocking, hn?

**A/N: TYVM Always a Bookworm, Ultimate Ending, Akatsukimember54, lovenyami, DistanceBetween, Holy Metal Muffin of Death, gaarafangirl91, FireGoddess101, Thief of Spades, Bakura's Guardian Angel, xoxoangel23,MystiKoorime, consumedbylove, Melodies Cry Beyond and scrambled-eggs-at-midnight!! So much feedback..!! You all rock!**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter Four**

…

"You are an imbecile."

Bakura, having grown bored of that particular insult, merely yawned.

Ryo took a deep breath to avoid losing his mind. It was one day after his yami's disastrous run from Domino Groceries.

"Well," he continued, "you've got to tie down a job somewhere, or you know what the consequences will be. I called some of my friends, and they gave me a list of job positions that are open." He handed the disinterested thief a piece of paper.

Bakura eyed the first suggestion on the list and gave Ryo a look that clearly inquired as to the state of his mental health.

"A waiter," he said coolly. "A _waiter_, Ryo. I knew you were an idiot before, but this-"

"I was desperate," Ryo cut in, annoyed. "I just wrote down every option they gave me."

"After the fiasco at the grocery store, you should know I was never intended for customer service," Bakura pointed out with a smirk. "Do you really want this on your head?"

"May I remind you," the younger male said in a suddenly silky tone, "that you're the one with everything to lose here?"

Bakura raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged. "You're the one who's set me on the world. It's your funeral they'll be holding when this is over."

"We'll see about that," Ryo responded lightly, "considering you can't even figure out how to shut off a digital alarm clock."

Bakura flipped him off and went to get dressed.

…

Anzu, who had worked at Burger World for quite awhile now, had managed to get Bakura a shift at the place. The thief could only thank Ra a million times over that the friendship-obsessed girl had a different shift than he did.

Another nametag and a quick basic course later, Bakura was wearing the Burger World uniform and ignoring repeated instructions to paste a smile on his face.

A group of teenage girls entered the small restaurant, and the itch of wanting to demolish something got a whole lot harder not to scratch.

_They're gigglers,_ he observed morosely. _I utterly, utterly __**loathe**__ gigglers._

The apparent leader of the pack shot him a glance and raised a slim eyebrow, a smile making its way over her face. "Hello," she said sweetly. "Table for five, please."

"Whatever," Bakura muttered, looking around until he saw an empty booth. He headed towards it, then paused and turned back to the motionless girls. "Well?" he asked impatiently. "Get a move on."

In a sudden flurry of movement they obeyed and followed the disgruntled waiter to the booth. Bakura tossed a few menus in their general direction, hoping to some extent that one might hit a girl in the face. None of them did, and he left the table even more irritated.

Unsure what he was supposed to do now, he wandered around aimlessly. He journeyed to the restaurant bathroom and covered a few toilet seats with the saran wrap he'd brought specifically for the occasion. He did some more aimless wandering before deciding he'd exhausted his immediate supply of patience and heading back to the giggler's table.

"Well?" he asked brusquely. "I assume you've decided."

One of the girls looked up, brow furrowed. "Why would you assume that?" she replied, just as bluntly. "You've only been gone two minutes!"

_Really?_ Bakura wondered. _Huh. I suppose time flies when you're saran-wrapping toilets._

The pack leader intervened. "Kinoko, chill. It's fine." She shot a wide smile at Bakura, who promptly informed her, "There's something green stuck in your teeth." (This was a lie, of course.)

Blushing, the girl looked down and gave him her order in a hurried tone. The other girls did likewise; apparently none of them were willing to risk keeping him at the table a second longer than necessary.

Bakura bolted from the table and made his way to the kitchen before it occurred to him that he couldn't remember a single detail of any of the girl's orders.

_It appears I have two options,_ he thought. _I can go back to the pack of giggling hyenas and risk what's left of my sanity, or I can tell the cook something random and not care._

No thought was necessary. Naturally.

…

"Um, I didn't order a cheeseburger."

"Waiter-san? I'm allergic to fries."

"Milkshakes are awful for my figure! Are you insane?"

Bakura let the dismayed comments fall on dispassionate ears before speaking up.

"Do you believe in slavery?" He directed the question at the girl who'd all but snapped at him before-Kinoko, or something.

She gave him a confused look. "Uh, no."

"Really? Then why do you attend a restaurant where hapless people are ordered around, subject to your every whim for pitiful-and I do mean _pitiful_-pay?"

The girl's eyebrows were practically colliding. "Um, because that's the way restaurants work?"

"Why?" Bakura responded, relentless in his attack. "It's a blatant attack on the justice system."

Kinoko was evidently floundering. Bakura watched with relish; people were so easy to pick apart.

"Eat your food," he said dismissively. "Be thankful I chose to bring you anything at all."

The girls stared at his back, stunned, as he departed the table.

Bakura didn't return to the table; when the girls finally got up to leave, however, he somehow bumped into the pack leader, who was shooting him a stupidly wide smile.

"Hello again," she purred.

Bakura attempted to get around her, but she sidestepped to cut him off.

"What's your name?"

…_I am wearing a __**nametag**__. Figure it out._

Frowning, the thief tried to sidestep the girl again, but she moved to cut him off a second time.

"I'm Puramu," she unwisely persisted.

"Yes, because I really care." Bakura managed to fit an impressive amount of sarcasm into those five words.

Puramu frowned, which Bakura considered a good sign. Frowning was an indicator that he was finally getting his point through someone's thick skull.

"Look, you're really hot and all, but you have a serious attitude problem," the girl huffed.

Bakura blinked and started focusing his senses on his body heat. _What in Ra's name…the chick is speaking in tongues. There's nothing off about my temperature; what an idiot.._

"Did your parents make a habit of dropping you on your head as an infant?" he demanded irritably.

Puramu was scowling now. Bakura smirked; scowling was even better than frowning. It meant the poor sap that'd been foolish enough to argue with him was about to storm off.

But the girl didn't. In fact, the scowl slipped off her face like water in a matter of seconds. And speaking of water..

_Oh, damn,_ Bakura thought in horror, recognizing what her current expression meant.

Sure enough, her face screwed up and she began to cry. Loudly, in fact.

While Bakura contemplated which way to run, the manager (who had been on duty) hurried onto the scene wearing a concerned look. "What's wrong, miss?" he asked.

Between alternating sniffles and howls the girl managed to point an accusing finger at Bakura and wail, "He was being s-_such_ a j-_jerk_!"

_**That's**__ the best you can come up with?_ Bakura thought in disbelief. _Please. My put-downs could eat your put-downs for breakfast and still have plenty of room for more._

The manager, however, didn't appear to be hung up on the quality (or lack thereof) of the girl's insults. He turned to the thief with a deep scowl that probably wasn't going to melt into tears anytime soon.

"Turn your uniform and nametag in immediately," he snapped. "You're fired."

Bakura stood stock-still, unable to believe what he was hearing. Fired? _Fired_? For _what_?! He'd gotten the hyenas their damn food, hadn't he? He'd restrained himself from punching Leader Chick's lights out when she was babbling nonsense about body heat, hadn't he? He hadn't sent any customers to the Shadow Realm, and _that_ was without even being asked!

Furious, he wrenched his nametag from the front of his uniform and chucked it at the manager's head as hard as he could.

The man collapsed.

Customers stood by in shock. Out of the corner of his eye the attacker noticed an angry and rather large employee stepping out from behind the counter, rolling up his sleeves.

Once again, Bakura found himself running from a job at top speed.

…

"_What_ is the meaning of this?!"

Bakura was in no mood to listen to Ryo's rants at the moment. He went straight for the refrigerator to hunt down some chocolate syrup.

Ryo continued to spew despite his yami's obvious lack of paying attention. "I happen to come across the local news channel on TV, and what do I see? Video footage of a crazed Burger World employee running around in his uniform, and the anchor saying that police are searching for said employee to arrest him for assault! What is wrong with you? Can't I leave you alone for _one bloody day_ without you getting yourself another arrest warrant?!"

The boy paused for breath. Bakura unscrewed the top of the syrup bottle, tipped the bottle back and poured some of the sugary goodness down his throat.

"That's disgusting," a calm-looking Atem informed him from the living room entry.

"Screw off," Bakura muttered, taking another swig of syrup.

The pharaoh shrugged and went back into the living room.

"Well," a suddenly relaxed Ryo spoke up, "there's no point in giving myself a premature heart attack. After all, it's your choice. If you want to get yourself tossed in jail, go right ahead. It'll only leave you with less time to find and hold down a job before Yugi returns."

The reminder sent Bakura into defensive mode. "This one wasn't my fault," he snapped. "The hyena wouldn't leave me alone-stupid giggler kept going on about body temperature and whatnot and I simply-"

"Hyena-wait, body temperature?"

"Yes, and even if I _did_ have a fever it wouldn't have been relevant to the conversation-"

As everything clicked, Ryo started to smile. "Bakura?"

"What?" the thief growled, annoyed that his rant had been interrupted.

"Next time you're working, be sure to videotape it all. If one 'hot' comment is enough to derail you like this, I'd love to see what happens when a girl _really_ tries to hit on you."

And he departed, no doubt to laugh with Atem over the whole situation, while Bakura stood in the kitchen with one eye twitching madly.

**TBC**

**A/N: Hit the nail on the head, AAB-san. xD Hint for the next job: it involves..well, unpleasantness.**


	6. Chapter Five: Water and Explosions

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. ^^

**A/N: TYVM Shantih, gaarafangirl91, Vullinia, Melodies Cry Beyond, scrambled eggs at midnight, Akatsukimember54, Roserietta, Ultimate Ending, FireGoddess101, Miku Spooky, Lady Eris Discordia, lovenyami, Do The Cool Whip, Anubis46545, AshbooAkatsuki, Always a Bookworm and Mysia Ri!!**

**Ooh, this took so long…so sorry about that…**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter Five**

…

The beeping awoke him again. He jammed the magic button ferociously and rolled over to go back to sleep, but was almost immediately interrupted.

"Get up, Bakura."

Bakura opened his eyes and sent a brief prayer to Ra.

_Strike him down. Burn him to a crisp._

Seconds passed in silence. The thief glanced hopefully over his shoulder.

Atem stood there, looking bored.

_Dammit,_ Bakura thought with a sigh. He closed his eyes again.

"Bakura. Ryo made me promise to get you awake in time for your next job interview, which is in about twenty minutes. Get up or face me waking you like this for the rest of your natural life."

"I'm already dead," Bakura couldn't resist grumbling.

"That's beside the point," the pharaoh replied. "Get moving or I'll have to take extreme measures."

The thief pulled his covers over his head in response.

He barely had time to register the young king's sigh before footsteps rapidly approached the bed; a half-second later Bakura had been shoved unceremoniously onto the floor.

"Ow!" The thief saw spots for a moment, seeing as his head had crashed into his bedside table on the way down.

"That looks painful," Atem remarked breezily, eyeing the swelling section of his enemy's head. "But you are 'already dead', of course, so it couldn't have done much damage." He smirked and made himself scarce while Bakura was still disoriented.

…

The morning's events left Bakura with fresh resolve to get rid of the pharaoh as quickly as possible. He showered and dressed and scarfed down some breakfast (red meat, of course) before grabbing Ryo's note and looking at the next option on the list, which had been vehemently underlined.

Bakura's raised eyebrow at the apparent importance of the selection was met with Atem's comment, "I think he's determined to punish you after the stunt at Burger World."

The thief snorted. "Oh really." Punish him? _Him_? The great king of thieves? He wouldn't be scared off by any job, especially not one as simple-sounding as this.

He strode out the door and started trying to find his way to the address mentioned.

…

"So you're gonna help me out today, huh?"

Bakura bristled. He did not like hearing himself thought of as a helper. What would Malik say? The thief's reputation would be dirt in a week if someone caught wind that he was _helping_ people.

Thus: "No. I am merely here to work."

The beefy man seemed to find this fair enough, and he shrugged. "So, d'you have any previous plumbing experience?"

The thief considered all those times he had backed up his hikari's sink so that Ryo had been sprayed in the face with water the second it turned on. Then he decided that probably wouldn't fly, and shook his head.

"Ah, that's fine. I'll teach you what ya need to know." He patted Bakura on the shoulder with enough force to flatten a small child. "Name's Hoshi, by the way."

Bakura was unable to restrain himself. "Good for you."

The big man frowned but said nothing. The bizarre-looking pair got in Hoshi's car and drove to the customer's house, where Hoshi parked on the curb and turned to brief his new subordinate.

"Our target's name is Amiba Ohane," he began, but was interrupted by Bakura's hopeful "Target? Are we going to shoot her?"

Hoshi chuckled, apparently missing the fact that the 'teenager' was serious, and continued. "Her problem is a plugged toilet. _Very_ plugged." He paused thoughtfully. "As plugged as-"

"I get the damn picture," Bakura growled, trying to kill the mental images and failing horribly.

"All right. Just look alert and polite, and let me do the talkin'." Hoshi gave the thief another heavy pat on the shoulder (Bakura just knew he was going to bruise), and the two exited the car and proceeded to the front door.

Ohane opened the door with a look of relief that suggested they were the Messiah.

"Thank God," she said as they entered. "I've already called two other plumbers, but they couldn't do anything. It's the middle bathroom upstairs; I would be so grateful if.."

"C'mon, little partner, let's get a move-on," Hoshi urged cheerfully, heading up the stairs.

Bakura felt the mad twitch in his eye again and tried not to kill something. _Little partner?! I'm hundreds of times his age, the..!_

"Are you all right?" the woman inquired.

"..Peachy," he ground out, and followed Beef Boy up the stairs.

…

Aforementioned Beef Boy was evidently one of those people who liked the sound of his own voice far too much. The minute Bakura entered the bathroom (which was plastered with pink wallpaper; it was enough to make him gag) he was bombarded with a variety of toiletry trivia, some questions of which he certainly never wanted to think about again.

Once it became clear that his partner hadn't been acting modest and in fact had no experience, Hoshi began explaining all the tubes and pipes of the sewer system and how everything worked, blah, blah, blah.

Bakura zoned out and allowed himself to drift into a lovely daydream. It involved stuffing Atem down a shower drain using nothing more than a fork and a blunt razor.

Eventually the speech ended and Hoshi spread out his tools. "All right," he said with a grin. "Here's how it's gonna go down. I am a firm believer in hands-on experience, especially for a squirt like you-"

_Die,_ Bakura thought angrily. _Die. Die._

"-so while I'm downstairs helping our customer out with the paperwork, I want you to try unplugging this thing. 'Snot that hard. I got faith in you, kid."

Bakura blinked. _Are there really people this stupid in the world?_ he wondered.

Apparently there were, because Hoshi got to his feet and was gone before you could say 'thief with pointy objects'.

Bakura took stock of his arsenal, as it had slowly become clear that his 'supervisor' was a hulking idiot who had actually left him alone with dozens of objects of destruction at his disposal.

_Well,_ the thief thought decisively. _I'd best get started._

…

Backing up the shower was easy enough; he'd run through the process many times at home but had never gone so far as to actually do it; he rather liked having his own room and plenty of food every day, and getting kicked out would have put a damper on things. Still, he'd memorized the methods necessary.

It was quite simple to re-route certain pipes with all the tools; in about ten minutes he stood back, satisfied that the next poor soul to turn on the shower would be doused thoroughly in sewer water.

Ah, the joys of being an evil genius.

The next step, as Hoshi was still going over paperwork and Bakura was bored (a bored Bakura is _never_ a good thing), was to…ahem…_fix_ the toilet.

Unlike the situation with the shower, Bakura had never thought about just how to ruin a toilet. Ryo only had one in his little shoebox of a house, and demolishing it would result in direct and unpleasant consequences.

_But there's a first time for everything,_ he thought with a shrug and a diabolical smirk. _How hard can it possibly be?_

…

Ohane and Hoshi entered the bathroom looking considerably cheerful.

"Well, partner?" Hoshi asked expectantly.

Bakura noted grudgingly that he'd at least dropped the 'little'. "It's been unplugged," he stated, expertly hiding an evil grin.

Ohane looked like she might just start singing the Hallelujah chorus. "Thank you," she managed.

The grin fought for release. "No problem," Bakura replied tightly.

"Awright," Beef Boy declared, "let's test it out!"

He reached for the toilet (Bakura held his breath)…

…and flushed.

There was a surprisingly loud bang, and suddenly porcelain was flying everywhere. Porcelain and…well. Sewage.

The chaos subsided quickly, and in the aftermath-during which Hoshi stood by, mute with shock-Ohane started to scream. She turned on Bakura, who scowled at her.

"What?" he snapped defensively. "I unplugged it, didn't I?"

…

Ryo looked like he might start to cry.

"Get over it," Bakura yawned. "Clearly that was a moronic choice."

"He has you there," Atem stated apologetically.

Ryo left the room. The thief and the pharaoh heard methodical banging noises coming from the wall of their host's room seconds later.

**TBC**

**A/N: Poor Ryo is going to have a nervous breakdown, isn't he? ^^' Hint for next job: it involves…a suit. A ridiculous one. –grins-**


	7. Chapter Six: Hysteria and Cows

Disclaimer: I own essentially nothing.

**A/N: TYVM Always a Bookworm, Shantih, FireGoddess101, scrambled-eggs-at-midnight, gaarafangirl91, Lady Eris Discordia, MystiKoorime, lovenyami, DarkShootingStarMagician, Forever Amuto, consumedbylove, Roserietta and Ultimate Ending!**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter Six**

…

The beeper didn't even have time to get started; instead, a completely new wakeup call took its place.

Bakura was rudely awakened by the painfully loud scream of a foghorn in his ear.

With a noise caught somewhere between a howl and a screech, the thief shot upright, clutching his pained left ear. As his brain slowly caught up with his body, Bakura found himself looking at a pleased Atem.

"Morning," the pharaoh greeted him nonchalantly.

Bakura didn't even hear the greeting (as he had been temporarily half-deafened). He didn't need to. Livid, he pounced. But the attempted attack, due to a combination of early morning disorientation on his part and some foresight on Atem's, was a miserable failure that left the thief lying in a rather undignified heap on the floor.

"Technically I was meant to wait until the alarm clock went off, and then try to wake you up gently before resorting to my own methods," Atem remarked lightly. "But it occurred to me that the alarm never works, and neither do my 'gentle' attempts. So I decided to skip the whole thing and go straight for the foghorn." He eyed said device fondly before noticing Bakura picking himself up and deciding it would be smart to make himself scarce.

…

Bakura was still grumbling about the whole incident as he polished off his breakfast. The early mornings had only been reinforcing his desire to get the Pharaoh _out_ of his house as soon as possible. He was certain that there were plenty of imaginative wakeup calls in store for him if he continued to wait.

Still, he paused a moment after reading the next suggestion on Ryo's list.

"'The Shake Shack'?" he read to himself, raising an eyebrow. "Haven't we already been through all this 'waiter' crap?"

But when all is said and done, a job is a job; and besides, Bakura always signed up as Ryo, so arrest warrants weren't really a huge problem for him.

Thus, Shake Shack it was.

…

"I'm here about a job," Bakura told the woman at the counter, sounding bored. He _was_ bored, actually; it got old using the exact same lines on hapless hirers over and over again. With any luck, this run-down little milkshake place would be his last try at this whole 'job' thing.

"Mm? Oh!" The woman beamed, looking relieved. "Oh, good. You must be the replacement mascot. Thank heavens; I didn't know what we were going to do, with Charlie out sick again and all…Here, follow me." She moved from behind the counter and headed for a small room next to the bathroom. Somewhat perplexed, Bakura followed. _Mascot? What in Ra's name is she blathering about?_

The woman was still chattering away as she dug through some boxes. "It's simple, really. Just hold the sign, be polite, drag people in, you know? And use the voice. Little kids love it when you use the voice on them-the 'mooey' one, you know?"

More and more, Bakura felt he was trying to understand someone speaking in Korean.

"Ah! Found it," the woman declared triumphantly. She lifted a large and fuzzy something out of the box she had been digging through and shook it at him for emphasis.

It took the thief about two point four seconds to realize just what ring of Hades he had just applied for.

"Oh, _hell_ no!"

…

"Come to the Shake Shack." He spoke in a monotone. "Come to the Shake Shack."

_I will obliterate Ryo from the face of the earth for this,_ he swore mentally. Since the younger boy's ultimatum, Bakura had been through a lot of crap, but this had to be the worst. Why, you ask?

Exhibit A: He was currently standing outside in 20-degree weather (this is just for reference, mind; the cold wasn't really a problem-see Exhibit C), which had to qualify somewhere as employee abuse.

Exhibit B: He was being forced to attempt coercing people into frequenting the Shake Shack, which involved saying the same line over and over again (and who in their right mind, he silently raged, decided to open a milkshake place in the middle of winter?!).

But the real kicker was Exhibit C: He was decked out what had to be the most degrading suit anyone had ever invented. Satan himself couldn't have thought of something this ridiculous.

He, Bakura, the King of Thieves, was wearing a cow costume.

Yes, a cow costume. A full one, complete with dopey googly eyes (at least no one could see his face..), hooves, and-most humiliating of all-a rubber udder.

Someone was going to pay for this. _After_ he got his paycheck, of course.

"Come to the Shake Shack," he grumbled. Mentally he started running through a list of the most painful tortures he had ever invented and started combining them in different ways, hoping to discover a punishment even halfway suitable for his _dear_ hikari.

An elderly couple started walking past. Fed up with being both bored and ignored, Bakura snapped, "Come to the Shake Shack or I will poke your eyes out with drinking straws."

The couple stopped walking.

"What was that, young man?" the old lady inquired feebly, cupping a hand around her ear.

Bakura blinked, momentarily surprised, but quickly recovered and improvised. "Buy something from the crummy little joint behind me or I will shave off your hair-what little remains-and make you eat it." Pleased, he folded his arms.

"Speak up, boy," the old man replied gruffly. "Our hearing isn't what it used to be."

"…" Bakura racked his brain for an even worse punishment. He'd never had to work so hard to threaten someone before. "Get a milkshake or I'll remove your dentures and replace them with frogs stolen from a sixth-grade science class. _After_ their dissection."

"Maybe you should write it down," the elderly woman suggested with a kind smile.

Bakura threw his arms up in frustration and roared, "JUST BUY A BLOODY MILKSHAKE!!"

Half the people on the street turned to stare at the giant cow bellowing at a pair of senior citizens. Bakura found he couldn't even flip any of them the bird, as his fingers were being impeded by rubber hooves.

The old woman frowned thoughtfully before turning to her husband. "Dear, I think he wants us to buy a milkshake."

"I think you're right," the man said in a way that suggested he couldn't really care less. "I don't want one," he added, addressing Bakura.

"Well?" the thief demanded, turning once more to the man's wife.

She smiled again. "I would, dearie, but I'm afraid I'm lactose intolerant."

And they left.

As his worn brain finally processed what had been said, Bakura turned and punched the wall of the accursed establishment with all of his strength.

…

Hours went by with no customers and no end to the throbbing pain Bakura felt in his hand, thanks to the brick wall he'd unthinkingly pounded.

The heat didn't help. While others went about their daily routines rushing to escape the bitter cold, Bakura was sweltering inside the fuzzy, fleece-lined cow costume (which he now figured was a medieval interrogation device, bought cheap by the Shake Shack and redecorated to look like an innocent outfit).

At some point, when his brain had quit working thanks to the heat and he was moderately sure one of those milkshakes would simply melt on his face, Bakura decided enough was enough. He needed air. He needed to avoid heatstroke. Put simply, he needed a break from being Mooey the Cow.

After a quick glance around to make sure nobody could identify him, Bakura ripped the head of the cow off of his own head and breathed in the coldest, freshest, most wonderful air he had ever experienced.

As sweat dripped down the side of his head, Bakura became abruptly aware of a distinct noise. A noise nobody was really fond of hearing, but particularly the thief king. It was the unmistakable sound of mocking laughter.

And the voices doing the laughing were quite familiar.

Turning slowly, trying to contain his rage, Bakura found himself facing the only other true psychopath in Domino-Malik-and his hikari, Marik Ishtar.

The latter was too breathless with hysterics to utter a single derisive word; Malik, on the other hand, was still perfectly capable of getting a few comments across in between howls of laughter.

"You look," he rasped, "like an utter _imbecile_."

Not his most creative insult, but acceptable, considering the (somewhat mind-blowing) situation.

"Why, thank you for pointing it out," Bakura responded in a tone dripping with sarcasm. "I really had no idea."

His irritation had absolutely no effect on the considerably younger madman. Malik simply shook his head and spoke again.

"Aren't you just…_adorable_," he managed; that set both him and Marik off again. The two filled the otherwise empty streets with general hysteria as Bakura stood by, face burning.

"If you two are _quite_ finished," he snarled. "What did you come here for?"

Marik, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes, shrugged. "Just wandering around aimlessly. A more pressing question is, what are _you_ doing here-and in that outfit?"

The dark-skinned young men started snickering again; knowing that another fit was imminent unless he kept them occupied, Bakura had no time to come up with something other than the truth.

"This," he muttered with all the dignity he could muster (that is, not much) "is my…day job."

If he'd been hoping to prevent or at least prolong the returning cackles, he failed miserably. Maybe it was the words themselves, or maybe it was just the sight of the ever-feared thief king trying to look dignified whilst dressed as a cow-they started laughing even harder than before, leaning on each other for support (which was a feat in itself; the two preferred to avoid being so close to each other if at all possible).

Bakura had, up until that point, kept himself from physically attacking anyone on the grounds that he would most likely be fired. He was keenly aware that the time before Yugi's unknown return was ticking down far too fast, and the reality of his impending doom had begun to sink in. He needed to hold down a job. Thus, the glaring and uncharacteristic lack of screaming would-be customers.

Such self-restraint, he realized, can easily be shattered when you encounter one who knows _precisely_ which buttons to push. And does so.

He pounced on the laughing duo.

And the rest, as they say, was history.

…

Ryo took one look at the scene in his living room-a certain yami watching the TV and sporting several bruises and a nasty scratch mark on his face-and decided, _I'm not going to ask. Never again will I ask._

Bakura offered no explanation, save for "Horror movie therapy. Do not interrupt."

**TBC**

**A/N: I lovelovelove that mental image. Bakura in a cow costume…**


	8. Chapter Seven: Interlude: World Peace

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or any characters therein. Savvy?

**A/N: TYVM to lovenyami, Ultimate Ending, Shantih, DarkShootingStarMagician, consumedbylove, Forever Amuto, EdElricFan1001, FireGoddess101, Calm Envy, gaarafangirl91, scrambled-eggs-at-midnight, Do The Cool Whip, ArielPark, Always a Bookworm, Even Glore, Roserietta, zack maniac, Melodies Cry Beyond and hiddencry!!**

**I'm so sorry, you guys…I fail at updating…**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter Seven**

…

"Clearly this isn't working," Ryo sighed the next morning at the breakfast table.

"_Clearly_," Bakura stated, sarcasm clear even through a mouthful of waffles.

Obviously having switched to 'just ignore him' mode, Ryo continued. "I've been thinking about what we can do to make this work, and I've come to a difficult conclusion. I am loathe to even suggest this, as it will mean much mind-bending and migraines on my part, but I don't think there's any other option."

Bakura started to perk up before remembering what had followed every other time he'd done so: Bad things. Every time he thought he saw a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, Ryo promptly informed him that it was an oncoming train. So, he said nothing and waited for the blade to fall.

"I am going," Ryo said after a deep breath, "to help you write a resume."

A strange, partly muffled noise came from the other side of the table. Looking up, the two light-haired males saw Atem hacking into his napkin, this owing to the fact that he had just completely inhaled his bite of waffle.

…

A few sheets of blank paper were fetched. The three sat at the table (Atem solely for the inevitable entertainment value) in silence for a few moments. Then Ryo, wearing the expression of one who knows he is doomed and has decided to just get the worst over with, said "Let's get started then. You want to begin with your name."

Bakura complied, bestowing his signature on the paper in his messy scrawl. Ryo watched with an internal sigh. _Bad handwriting be the least of our problems,_ he reminded himself. _Must prioritize._

"Put the address and phone number underneath…on second thought, never mind," Ryo decided hurriedly. He didn't need the police knowing where to go with their arrest warrant.

"Next you want to state your goal. What you want to achieve."

Bakura considered this. After a few seconds he put pen to paper again and scribbled something. Suddenly seized by worry, Ryo leaned forward and attempted to read his yami's near-illegible handwriting. His heart sank.

_Goals: To create anarchy. And to murder the Pharaoh._

"Bakura. This is to get yourself a _job_, remember? Potential employers are not going to accept you if you state your goals as murder and complete overthrow of the government."

"Why not?" Bakura replied. "_I_ would accept someone in an instant if they put that on their resume."

"Not every employer is certifiable," Atem muttered from his end of the table, earning a glare from the thief.

"Seriously, Bakura," Ryo pressed. "You need to pretend for a few minutes that you are a normal young man looking for a job. Think up a different goal."

Annoyed, Bakura scratched out his previous sentence and gave the issue some more thought. Soon he was writing furiously again, and then leaning back with a smug look on his face.

Ryo examined the new entry and sighed.

_Goal: To create world peace._

It was going to be a long day.

…

Continuing to follow his principle of 'choose your battles', Ryo wisely said nothing more about the 'goals' section of the resume and moved on. "Next is experience," he stated. "Previous occupations and-" He realized his mistake too late. An unholy smile came over Bakura's face as he began writing faster than ever before.

The finished product of the little scribbling rampage was this:

_Experience: A one-and-a-half day stint at Domino Groceries, which ended when I quit and was promptly chased from the premises by an incompetent security guard. One half-day of employment at Burger World, which ended with my being fired and very nearly arrested for assault. One job working under a plumber, which ended…well, crappily (ha, ha). One day working at the Shake Shack, which I…quit._

Ryo actually let out a little moan.

Atem gave the paragraph a glance and raised an eyebrow critically. "The 'crappily' pun was absolutely terrible," he observed.

"_That's_ the bit you noticed?" Ryo croaked.

…

Ryo took a break after that, leaving Atem to direct production by reading off a list the unhappy teenager had thrown together before making his escape.

"'Education'," the pharaoh read. That was all. He squinted at the page, but it yielded no further wording. "I suppose that's all."

"And what, pray tell, would he like me to put down for _that_?" Bakura demanded.

"Valid point. You can't exactly tell them where you went to high school," Atem mused, tapping his cheek with the pen.

The two brainstormed in silence for a minute or so before Atem snapped his fingers. "I've got it," he announced. "We'll just make something up."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "How original," he deadpanned.

Atem ignored this. "How about Kyoto University?" he suggested. "Yugi mentioned it a while ago; said he was going to apply at some point. The way he talked about it made it sound like an excellent school."

Bakura shrugged and wrote it down.

"Next it says 'Awards'," Atem continued. He gave the thief a thoughtful look. "Have you ever won anything in your life?"

Bakura scowled.

"We should make you Employee of the Month," the king chortled. "See how gullible these people really are."

"Why not?" the thief responded breezily. "They can't confirm it if I conveniently forget to mention where that job was."

Thus:

_Awards: Employee of the Month._

"Alright, last part." Atem cleared his throat. "It says 'References'."

The two of them said nothing afterward and stared at different cracks in the wall, trying to discern just what _that_ was supposed to mean in regards to a resume.

Ryo chose that moment, luckily, to return from wherever it was he had gone. He eyed his housemate's progress, resisted the urge to collapse laughing at the 'Awards' section, and stated, "I have a strong feeling I'm going to regret this, but you can use me as a reference." At the other's perplexed looks, he clarified. "A reference in this case is someone employers can call to confirm that you're actually as good as you sound. I can lie through my teeth if I must."

"Very funny," Bakura muttered, but he wrote Ryo's name and number on the paper.

"There." Ryo held out a hand. "Now let me see the finished product."

He read in silence for a few minutes. Once finished, he put the Thief King's resume down and realized that…he really needed some chocolate.

All he said was "You can start job hunting again tomorrow. I don't think I can handle any more of this today."

**TBC**

**A/N: Okay. Explanations are in order so that you guys don't kill me.**

**I apologize a hundred times for taking so long and then not having any job-hunting in the chapter. But the next event I have planned for this…well, to write it on top of the whole resume thing would take forever and I just can't do it.**

**I'll do my best to get the next chapter out quicker. I'm sorry about all this!**


	9. Chapter Eight: Suits and Sharp Objects

Disclaimer: Don't own YGO or any of the stores mentioned.

**A/N: TYVM Always a Bookworm, scrambled-eggs-at-midnight, FireGoddess101, duckqueen, Forever Amuto, gaarafangirl91, lovenyami, Roserietta, consumedbylove, sarahlovesbakura, Wedjat, DarkShootingStarMagician, Dark Onyx, laciva6, Charley Reede, Do The Cool Whip, Bartok94, Kal277, HighOnCookies, Blaze Moonlight (love your avatar, btw-Serenity FTW!), UnfoundSakura and BloodRedViolet!!**

**Raah. Updating. I continue to fail. I apologize to the world.**

**Job Hunting For Psychopaths: Chapter Eight**

…

For the record, copious amounts of ice-cold water being poured over one's head is not the most pleasant way to wake up in the morning.

Bakura could now testify to this fact.

Atem was smart enough to run for his life immediately after carrying out the deed, so the thief couldn't exact his revenge. Thus, the vicious cycle continued.

Bakura didn't even spare the list a look as he ate his breakfast. He had done some thinking the previous night, and had come to the conclusion that with all the hard work he'd done and all the torment he'd been put through over the past few days, he deserved a break.

Except that an actual break was no option, with the threat of ice-cold wake-up calls for the rest of his existence looming over his head. So Bakura would settle for the next best thing.

Screw the list. Screw the rules. He was going to choose his next job by himself.

…

He ended up heading to the mall. Not a place he particularly enjoyed (too many people, too many security cameras, too many screaming children that made him itch to kill something-all of it was just very bad for his blood pressure), but apparently it was supposed to be some hotbed of job openings for people 'his age'. That made it sufferable, even with the added torture of Christmas decorations scattered everywhere.

Armed with his foolproof new resume Bakura passed by the stores, glancing at names and merchandise and considering.

The candy store? No, it was much too small; other employees were bound to catch him thieving candy sooner or later.

The electronics store? No, the place had twice as many cameras as the rest of the building.

Claire's? No, he would rather choke to death on his own tongue.

The bookstore? No, they probably wouldn't appreciate his sleeping at the counter.

Hot Topic?

He paused in front of the slightly imposing store and folded his arms in thought. Maybe this one could work. Malik got half of his clothes from the place nowadays. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to sell all manner of as-far-from-cutesy-as-humanly-possible things, which he liked.

The thief was just reaching for the piece of paper in his pocket when a firm hand clapped his shoulder.

His immediate reaction was to break the man's arm. _You're here for a job,_ he had to remind himself. _For a job. Keep it together._

"What do you want?" he asked the older man bluntly. _Hey, just because I'm desperate doesn't mean I'm about to turn saint._

Not that it mattered; the man didn't even appear to notice the attitude. "You're late. I've been looking all over the place for you. The wig's a little weird-" he eyed the perplexed thief's hair appraisingly "-but it's the right color, so it'll do. Come on; we can take care of business on the back." He started jogging in the direction he'd come; shrugging to himself, Bakura followed. In his experience, when one was mistaken for someone else, the results were usually entertaining.

The pair entered an area in the back of the mall (_Is there one of these rooms in __**every**__ workplace?_), where the older man promptly turned around and held out his hand expectantly.

Bakura stared. The man stared back.

After a few seconds of this the man sighed and said impatiently, "I don't have time to fool around with you, kid. Over the phone you said you would bring your resume with you, so where is it?"

Bakura couldn't believe his luck. Perhaps the gods had finally decided to forgive him and grant him an easy way out, for once. Here a job was practically being tossed into his lap! All he had to do was present his foolproof resume, and he would be home free. Pulling the somewhat wrinkled paper from his pocket with a bit of a flourish, he handed it to the man (whose nametag read 'Pan', upon closer inspection).

Pan adjusted his glasses and squinted as he began to read the resume. Bakura amused himself by watching the overhead lights glare off of his soon-to-be employer's bald head.

A minute later, a strangled sound came from the older man, almost as if he were choking. The thief panicked ever so slightly (if this guy died, then so did his paycheck) before realizing what the sound was.

Laughter.

The second realization: Pan was laughing at _him_. Bakura bristled before coming to his third realization in as many seconds (he was on a roll today): More specifically, Pan was laughing _at his resume_.

Dear Ra. This could not be good.

"World peace!" Pan gasped, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes as the worst of the hysterical fit subsided. "'Goal: To create world peace.' That's golden." He chortled some more. "And that experiences section! Ha! That pun wasn't the most tasteful choice, but it still seems to me that you're a born comedian!"

Apparently not noticing the look on his companion's face (an expression remarkably akin to the look of one who has just been bashed over the head with a particularly large sledgehammer), Pan went on. "I normally wouldn't appreciate someone coming in here with a mock resume, but this is too priceless. I think you'll be perfect for this job."

Still twitching at the shock and indignity of having his slaved-over resume laughed at, Bakura forced a nod that probably looked as painful as it felt. Pan didn't notice. "Come on, let's make sure the costume fits."

Bakura halted in his metaphorical tracks. _**Costume**__?_ Images of a traumatizing cow outfit-complete with dangling udder-flashed through his mind with alarming vividness. Was he a _magnet_ for these sorts of ridiculous jobs, or what?

But as the costume itself was presented, something clicked in the thief's mind. The suit was red and trimmed with white fur. It came with a matching hat, a black belt and boots, and several pillows. Any idiot would realize the nature of the outfit. And instead of causing him to rage and send people to the Shadow Realm, three thousand years of slyness and experience told him that this could be a _wonderful_ opportunity. So he donned the ensemble without complaint.

He'd been working hard, after all. It was time to have some fun.

…

If someone had told the thief king that one day he would find himself donning a full Santa suit, sitting in a throne before a giant gingerbread house, waiting for a crowd of small children to descend upon him and actually smiling about it, he would have cackled over the idiocy of it for several minutes before sending the hapless informer to the Shadows.

That was, in fact, exactly what he was doing; minus the cackling and Shadow-banishing.

He'd managed to sneak off for a few minutes after the costume fitting to run to a few certain stores and grab some things; now, aforementioned items securely stashed between the Santa suit and his real clothing, he sat upon the throne (something he could definitely get used to) and waited for the fun to begin.

Eventually, with a surprising lack of any pomp or circumstance (probably because the workers knew they'd be stampeded if they made the little kids wait any longer), the ropes were let down and the line of small children began to move forward.

_Here we go._

The first child was a little girl with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Her eyes were big, blue and hopeful, and she was wearing a pink dress with matching boots.

How cute.

Bakura felt ill.

The nausea quadrupled when the presumptuous little twit climbed up onto his lap without so much as asking.

_My Ra! Don't people teach their children __**not**__ to sit on stranger's laps without asking first?!_

The little girl looked up at Bakura in his Santa suit and gave a big smile. "Hello, Santa," she said sweetly.

The thief forced himself to swallow his disgust and reply. "Hello," he choked out. "What do you want?" No point in beating around the bush.

The girl's face crinkled. "Don't you wanna know my name? You're s'posed to ask me my name."

Bakura's eye twitched, ever so slightly. "Fine. What is your name?"

Pleased, she replied "Anna."

"Wonderful." Somehow he managed to keep that one word from oozing sarcasm. "What do you-"

"Aren't you gonna ask me if I've been a good girl?" Anna interrupted. "You're supposed to ask me if I've been a good girl."

The twitch intensified. _Keep it together._ "Whatever. Have you?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I have."

"Good for you," he ground out. "Now, _what do you_-"

"Your lap isn't comfy," the girl cut in. "Mommy said your lap was gonna be com-"

And Bakura promptly lost his grip.

Leaning forward so that he was speaking directly into the girl's ear, lowering his voice so that nobody else could possibly hear him, he hissed "Listen, insect. Would you like to know a secret?"

Apparently not computing the fact that she had just been insulted, Anna nodded eagerly.

"I'm not the real Santa."

Confused, she cocked her head to the side. "What'd you do with the real Santa, then?"

Cackling maniacally inside his head, Bakura whispered with relish, "I _ate_ him."

That did it. Little Anna screamed and burst into tears, scrambling off of Bakura's lap as if in fear he would eat her, too. Bakura, for his part, managed to paste a concerned expression on his face and shrugged quite convincingly when Anna's frowning mother asked what had happened.

_One down, _the thief noted, satisfied. _And still about a hundred more to go._

…

Over the next hour Bakura gleefully turned down every offer made by Pan to take a break. Sure, he hadn't eaten lunch and was rather hungry, but he couldn't get enough of these kids. He'd been keeping a mental scorecard; so far twelve children had started crying, sixteen had run off screeching, eight had done both, and three had peed their pants (_after_ getting off of him, of course-otherwise, the number of young children in the Shadow Realm would have been doubled). He'd also met a sullen pre-teen girl who refused to do anything but glare at him (he hadn't minded her much), a tiny boy who'd hit him over the head with a toy truck and made him see stars, and a seven-year-old girl who informed him that he'd lost a lot of weight since last year.

So far, he'd found no child deserving of one of his 'gifts'.

He'd lost count of the number of brats that had attempted to sit on his lap by the time _she_ came along. A small, wide-eyed girl with a big smile; the resulting effect was caught somewhere between excited and deranged. She plopped down onto Bakura's lap as if she belonged there, and steamrolled over all of his protests.

"Hi, Santa," she said in a strange little voice.

Bakura, who had been momentarily thrown off by the fact that she was literally quivering with excitement, replied with his customarily blunt "What is it you want?"

The girl appeared to ignore his inquiry entirely; instead of answering, she leaned forward, huge eyes glittering, and told him, "My mommy says I'm _special_."

The eye twitch was starting to return. _What asylum did she escape from?_

"Do I get a present?" the possessed little freak continued, eyes expanding even more.

Bakura gave her an appraising look. There was a difference between childish weirdness and downright insanity. This kid looked like she was shaping up to become a lifetime resident of a room with padded white walls.

Yes, she would do nicely.

"I believe you do," the thief answered, and pulled a small box from inside of his costume with a wide grin. "Enjoy."

The girl took the box and leaned forward again; evidently she'd never been taught of the mystical bubble that surrounded each person and identified their personal space.

"Thank you, Santa," she said in that strange tone, and was gone.

Bakura kept the smirk off of his face, ever mindful of the watching crowd. He hoped she liked her new set of skinning knives.

…

He was halfway through permanently scarring yet another gullible brat when the unthinkable (so he thought at the time; in hindsight, it was somewhat inevitable) occurred.

Pan appeared out of nowhere; Bakura prepared himself to turn down yet another lunch break offer.

That was when he noticed the dark-haired, confused-looking teenage kid standing next to Pan.

_Suddenly I have this sinking feeling._

Sure enough: "Bakura, was it?" the bald man asked sternly. "What is the meaning of this?"

Bakura decided to play dumb. "What's the problem?"

"The problem is Kido," Pan said, scowling and jerking a thumb at the teenager beside him. "He says his car broke down on the way here. He forgot his cell phone and couldn't call to let us know. He only just got here."

"All _very_ sad," Bakura sneered, "but I fail to see how it pertains to me."

"We checked his phone number," Pan snapped. "He's the kid who called to apply for the Santa job."

The kid on Bakura's lap showed surprising intelligence for his age and made himself scarce.

"Which begs the question," Pan continued. "Who the hell are-"

That was all Bakura needed to hear. He leapt from his short-lived throne, making sure to knock it over behind him to impede Pan and the kid, and started running.

The twerps waiting in line screamed as their "Santa" bolted, shedding his distinctive costume garb and by extension all of the wonderfully sharp, boxed implements hidden between the costume and his clothing. Vaguely Bakura registered yelling and pounding footsteps behind him, but Domino Mall had never had much in the way of security (oh yes, he was _intimately_ acquainted with their security), and he made it out of the mall doors free.

He couldn't stop there, though. He kept running until he had reached Ryo's neighborhood.

Finally able to stop and breathe, he did so and started pondering his next move.

How many failures did this bring the total to? He wasn't even sure anymore. This was unacceptable. This would be the straw that broke the camel's (read: Ryo's) back and stuck Bakura with a permanent roommate.

No way could he let this get back to his hikari.

…

Hours passed, plans were made, and Ryo returned home. Bakura took this as his cue and entered the house with a practiced look of nonchalance.

Ryo was on him before he'd so much as closed the front door.

"Where were you?!" he yelped. "You didn't take the list! What on earth have you been doing?!"

"Get a grip," Bakura snapped. "I was out looking for a job myself, you pessimistic little worm."

Ignoring the insult, Ryo turned suspicious. "Did you find one?"

"Yes," was the cool reply.

"As _what_?" Ryo asked incredulously.

The look on his hikari's face when Bakura explained his new job was one that he would relish for the rest of his existence.

"Dear god," Ryo croaked, all the blood draining from his face at an alarming rate. "You? As _Santa_? With-with _children_?"

Bakura folded his arms and tried not to look too obviously gleeful.

"Was anyone hurt?" Ryo demanded fearfully. "Traumatized? Scarred?"

"I'll take small children over the damn Pharaoh any day," Bakura informed him with a scowl. "Besides, I went out and got a bloody job without your interference. You should be singing praises."

Ryo looked to be at a loss. Speechless, he retreated to his room to compose himself and perhaps cry a little bit.

Bakura leaned back against the kitchen wall and exhaled. Telling Ryo about the latest fiasco was out of the question. He would just have to hunt down a job while pretending he was still Santa, and hope his host was too stupid to notice the lack of new paychecks coming in.

**TBC**

**A/N: Extra thanks to DeathMax-kun for that bizarre little girl. xD**


	10. Chapter Nine: Alarms and Small Children

Disclaimer: I am not Kazuki Takahashi; argal, Yu-Gi-Oh belongs not to me.

**A/N: TYVM Always a Bookworm, lovenyami, Tender Loving Care, Do The Cool Whip, Roserietta, Velgamidragon, MystiKoorime, tobi'.kunochi, FireGoddess101, blackbassistfairy, Sparkly Tea, Shantih, laciva6, xj0kir, SeekerofAncientLegend, kill-me-kiss-me75, scrambled-eggs-at-midnight, coldest, Charlio4444, Atalanta-chan, cool-girl027 and gaarafangirl91!**

**Ten chapters and…100 reviews!!! Holy crap! Thank you all so much!!!**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter Ten**

…

Astonishingly, a petty and infuriating prank wasn't the wakeup call Bakura received the next morning.

_Beepbeepbeep._

It was the clock alarm. Again.

_Beepbeepbeep._

Bakura kept his eyes firmly closed. He almost preferred Atem's methods to this electronic Chinese water torture.

_Beepbeepbeep._

On the other hand, he realized, there was something he could do to this clock that he hadn't yet been able to do to Atem.

_Beepbeepbee-_

"GRAAAH!!" Bakura roared, half-mad, half-triumphant. He flew out of bed, snatched the clock from its stand, stormed to Atem's side of the room and flung the offending piece of machinery out the open window in three seconds flat.

The beeping noise faded; moments later, Bakura heard an endlessly satisfying crash.

Smiling with the bliss of one who knows they can now sleep the day away without anyone to stop them, Bakura returned to his bed. He yawned. He closed his eyes.

_Beebeebeebeebeeeee…_

…_No. Gods, __**no**__!_

…_eeeeeee…._

Bakura jumped out of bed again and started searching furiously for whatever was making this noise-this truly dreadful, never ending tone of hideous pitch that made his clock alarm seem like a happy memory.

…_**eeeeeee…**_

Ra, was it actually _intensifying_?! Bakura redoubled his efforts, which had now brought him out into the hallway and past the bathroom.

…_**eeeeeee….**_

Whatever mind he had previously possessed was about to be eternally lost. Frantically Bakura zoomed into the kitchen. A flashing set of red zeros caught his eye.

The microwave. Ryo-the blasted, miserable, veritable damned _psychic_-had set the microwave timer.

What now? He couldn't exactly rip the microwave out of the wall.

Temporarily giving into his frustration, Bakura screeched aloud. Timer and exhausted thief harmonized in an ear-splitting symphony that woke several neighbors (who then began to scream in turn-under different circumstances, Bakura might've been proud; he'd never caused so much annoyance so early in the morning before).

An idea occurred to him in the midst of the high-pitched havoc, one that even he would never consider carrying out-normally. But these were not normal circumstances, clearly, and it was either stop to beeping or go _completely_ psycho and burn the neighborhood down.

Ryo would be angrier about the latter, surely.

Taking a moment to mourn the fact that he was actually considering what his host would think (when, oh _when_ had he slipped so low?), Bakura stopped screaming and dashed to the garage. A quick search yielded the toolbox (the very sight of which made him snicker; he didn't think Ryo was capable of handling anything heavy and/or sharp without hurting himself).

Now, you might think that Bakura was going to dig through the toolbox and pull out his chosen weapon of destruction. And on a different day that might have been the case. But again, these were not normal circumstances. As it was, Bakura simply heaved the entire toolbox off of the shelf and half-dragged it into the kitchen.

Faced once again with that horrendous nonstop beeping, the thief king took comfort in the fact that it would soon be over. Eyeing the machine, gauging the distance, he hoisted the toolbox as high as he could and started spinning in circles to gain momentum. When he thought he had the aim right, he spun a few more times-the toolbox was a red blur now-and let go.

The heavy metal box skimmed right past the microwave, missing it by several inches, and instead smashed through the closed window.

There was a spectacular CLANG followed by a chorus of smaller CLANGs as the toolbox hit the ground outside and vomited its contents everywhere. Some flew out in midair-there was a yelp as one zoomed over the fence and hit the neighbor's dog.

Bakura was standing frozen, wondering how exactly his foolproof plan had gone awry, when a new sound joined the (still going) microwave timer: Ryo's house alarm.

The thief king was no expert on modern technology, but even he knew what the alarm was (after all, most people had them now, so he'd had to learn how to disable them in order to continue his calling). And he knew that they tended to summon law enforcement. Somehow.

Bakura decided that now might be the perfect time to resume his job-hunting.

…

The List had long since proven itself to be a massive waste of time and arrest warrants, so Bakura opted for simply strolling down the sidewalk, eyeing windows for 'Help Wanted' signs.

Being the professional criminal that he was, he was also careful to keep one eye on the road so that any police cars going by wouldn't catch him off guard.

About ten minutes into his walk his full attention was commanded by a set of gleaming steak knives and meat cleavers in a shop window. A meat cleaver…He did rather enjoy meat cleavers. They tended to chop more than simple knives, and more easily as well. Ryo had gotten rid of his after the incident at Christmas.

A plan to quietly rob the store of its display contents was halfway formed in his mind, when an unmistakable pair of colors flashed warningly in his peripheral vision. Whipping his head around, Bakura saw the dreaded red and blue lights. And they were attached, naturally, to a patrolling police car.

_Oh, damn._

Surely his face was plastered all over the police bulletin boards by now. Bakura turned away and walked deliberately in the opposite direction he'd been going. With any luck, the car would turn a left corner and pass by without its occupants ever seeing his face.

But luck had been in short supply lately, it seemed, and the trend continued. The only turn coming up was to the right-meaning, when the car inevitably too said turn, the face of a wanted criminal would be staring at them.

Panicking is not a good idea when one is a fugitive. _Not_ panicking was a skill Bakura had almost learned to master over the course of his long life. However, lack of sleep combined with seemingly constant irritation while he was awake had made him extremely high strung.

As such, he didn't even look at the name of the building directly beside him, and instead simply entered it as quickly as he possibly could.

Slamming the door behind him, Bakura turned to find himself nearly face-to-face with a disheveled and thoroughly terrified-looking woman.

"I don't care anymore," she was babbling frantically. "I don't care, I don't care, they're driving me completely mad, I can't take it anymore-"

Bakura raised an eyebrow in interest. It was always fascinating to watch the totally insane-you never knew what they would do. Sometimes they ended up acting like a rabbit was their long-lost spouse, sometimes they ended up setting the rabbit on fire. Sometimes they did both. It was quality entertainment, n his opinion.

"-don't care if I lose my job, I'll eat out of the trash, I'd _rather_ eat out of the trash than spend one more damned minute with those little beasts-" The woman looked up, as if she'd just noticed Bakura was there, and redirected her spiel at him. "Don't look at me like that, _you_ fix them, then, if you're so damned smart, see how you like it, cooped up with them all day, they'll drive you bonkers, see if they won't-"

Now, this _was_ interesting. Bakura smelled the opportunity and pounced upon it. "Are you offering me a job?" he inquired smoothly.

She looked at him like he had just grown a second head, and that head had seven eyeballs.

"Sure," she replied wildly, pushing past him to get to the door. "Room seven. Take my pay. I don't care." And then she was gone.

Bakura had just learned three important things: One, it looked like he might be in a school. Two, said school was very seedy, as evidenced by their hiring of what had to be a registered nutcase. Three, aforementioned nutcases were apparently allowed to hand out jobs.

Maybe luck wasn't in such short supply after all?

Feeling considerably more cheerful, Bakura walked down the hall until he found Room Seven. It wasn't hard-the room he was looking for just happened to be the only one with an open door and a nonstop wave of noise pouring from within.

_This could be fun. After all, I do so __**love**__ children,_ the thief mused, smirking. He walked into the room and, by extension, into the sea of chaos.

Children. Everywhere, small children; he would hazard a guess at perhaps nine or ten years old on average. Animals, the lot of them, screaming and running around and throwing things and laughing like they were half their actual age. Budding little maniacs, it seemed.

_Excellent._

Bakura strode to the desk at the front of the room with purpose. He cleared his throat. The measly little noise didn't even register with the brats running about.

"Oi," he snapped, unused to being ignored by individuals other than Ryo. "Listen up."

Nothing at all in the way of acknowledgement. A pencil whizzed by his ear. The box for said pencil soon followed, forcing him to duck.

Bakura lost his temper.

"SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!" he roared, leaping to his feet once more. "Or so help me, I will send every last one of you to the Shadows!"

And suddenly, there was silence. Pair after pair of wide eyes turned on him.

"That's more like it," Bakura muttered, allowing himself a smug smile.

Someone lobbed a ball of blue clay directly at his head. Prepared this time, Bakura reached up and squashed it with a fist before it could so much as ruffle his hair. Then he locked gazes with the perpetrator and smiled, advancing.

A chubby kid with mussed hair. Bakura offered him the glob of clay, smiling his best psychotic smile. "Is this yours?"

The kid looked like he might well wet his pants. Bakura understood. He tended to have that effect on people.

He deposited the blue stuff in the kid's lap and returned to the front of the room. "Now," he said in a businesslike way, "what class is this anyway?"

More silence. For some reason, nobody wanted to be the first to speak up.

Finally, a skinny girl in a pink dress (Bakura loathed her on sight) raised her shaky hand. "It's a History class," she squeaked.

Bakura's smile widened, revealing pointy incisors and causing several front-row kids to back away.

"Perfect," he said. Oh, and it was. He already had a lesson completely memorized-he'd been rehearsing it time and again in his head for millennia, in the form of a rant. Now he had the best possible excuse to unleash the rant on a group of hapless children-and perhaps mold some of their young, naïve minds as well.

"Today," he announced, "I'm going to tell you about one of the most tyrannical and evil rulers of all time-a certain Pharaoh…"

…

"…and _that_, brats,is why you must support anarchy," he concluded gravely. "Any questions?"

The kids didn't move. Upon closer inspection, they didn't appear to be breathing either.

"Good." Bakura grinned. Now _this_ was a job. He was being paid to screw with the minds of small children and teach world history as he saw fit.

"Tomorrow," he continued, "we'll be discussing Attila the Hun and why he had the right idea." Wait, he was supposed to assign homework, wasn't he? "I expect a two-page essay on the..er..evil of pharaohs, due tomorrow," he said quickly. "And make sure to-"

Several things then happened in quick succession.

The door to the classroom was thrown open.

Bakura waited around just long enough to recognize the intruders as policemen.

And he promptly and agilely jumped out a window, hitting the ground running.

Once again, he despaired, a prospective job had been foiled by the appearance of Suits. He could really learn to loathe Suits.

_Back to square one, it would seem._

…

"Atem," Ryo said cautiously, "don't you think Bakura's been a little bit…quiet lately?"

"Can't say I've noticed." The young pharaoh shrugged. "But if it is true, I'd think you'd be rejoicing."

"Very funny. It's just that I thought he'd be gloating by now-you know, having held down a job for two full days and all. I'm a bit worried, to be honest."

"Maybe playing Santa to a neverending crowd of small children is enough to wear even him down," Atem suggested. A grin wormed its way over his face. "What I wouldn't give for some pictures of him in the outfit…It must look priceless…"

Ryo took a moment to wonder when on earth hearing the words 'Bakura' and 'small children' in the same sentence would cease to give him nightmares. Then he sighed and sank down in his seat. "I suppose I should be grateful he's holding one down at all," he admitted.

"I agree," Atem said dryly. "I never thought it would happen.."

…

Bakura took his ear away from the door and exhaled. So his evil plot was working; insert cackle here.

He just needed to keep up the façade. If Ryo was gullible enough to swallow this, then maybe he wouldn't even notice the fact that his yami's new job was paying suspiciously low.

Yes…Not for the first time, Bakura's conniving plan was relying quite a bit on his host's apparent stupidity.

**TBC**

**A/N: Thank you RA. A new chapter is finally out. I'm sorry for the wait! *cowers behind plushie***


	11. Chapter Ten: Pupils and Righteous Fury

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or any characters therein.

**A/N: Much thanks to Do The Cool Whip, Velgamidragon, TOD ZUYO, HighOnCookies, DesecratedPharaoh, Always a Bookworm, Roserietta, Mysia Ri, lovenyami, Melodies Cry Beyond, FireGoddess101, Akatsukimember54, gaarafangirl91, Zie Ayton, MemoriesOfBetrayal, SeekerofAncientLegend, Shantih, SilverWolfLaguz, VivienneLaFaye, scrambled-eggs-at-midnight, Silver Wolf 551, LimeyGirl09, aibou-doodle, Pikana, wolfen princess14, YamiBakura1988, Ranma Higurashi, rosie isis and rai the kitsune, Lazy Cat 44, Two-Tail Demon, HolyChicken, ArrancarMaiden, Indiana Joanna, Audrianna13, Massive explosion of firey goo (love your penname XD) and Eight Days A Weeke!**

**No excuse for the wait (aside from that pesky little thing known as Real Life), but I'm going to finish this story, dammit. I refuse to abandon it. =_=; Oh, and props if you recognize the name of the real intern. ;)**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter Ten**

…

"Atem…remember what I said about Bakura being quiet lately?"

The pharaoh recalled their conversation in school earlier. The psycho in question had briefly appeared directly after that talk, for reasons Atem was still suspicious of. "Yes."

"Well-" Ryo's tone became extremely pained "-forget I ever said that."

Now, Ryo would be the first to admit that since living with the thief, he might have become just a tiny bit paranoid. That is, he tended to blame Bakura for everything. It had become a habit, a reflex if you will, and to be completely fair his suspicions were very rarely proven wrong. Still, he realized that automatically pinning every little household disaster on his yami was a less than kind thing to do.

But this—_this_ could only be Bakura's fault. There was simply no other explanation. Why else would Ryo come home to find a smashed window, an ongoing microwave timer (good god, even _Bakura_ could figure out how to press the 'END' button-couldn't he?) and a furious note taped to the door by the neighbor?

His house alarm was still going as well. Ryo entered the combination and the noise stopped.

_I really should just pay the extra money and connect the thing to the police station._ He considered the notion and sighed. _Then again, do I really want to have to explain every one of Bakura's escapades to the authorities?_

"I think I found what broke the window," Atem remarked, pointing out of the gaping hole where glass had been that morning. Not really wanting to look, Ryo bit his lip and cast a glance outside. There was his old toolbox, contents lying everywhere—including, it seemed, the yard next door. Well, at least that explained the angry note…

Ryo turned to Atem with a poorly disguised expression of misery. "I only want to know one thing," he said softly. "Why me?"

Atem patted his shoulder sympathetically. "You should make the thief go and apologize," he said, but Ryo shook his head frantically.

"You'll forgive me when I say that that is an _awful_ suggestion. Terrible things happen when Bakura tries to 'apologize'. Things typically involving trauma and police and every ounce of my lying ability, not to mention months of serious therapy for all involved. No, no, no. I'll do it myself."

And he went off to do just that. The minute the door closed, a disgruntled Bakura climbed out of the pantry.

"Such little faith," he observed dryly.

"Can you blame him?" Atem retorted, gesturing around. "Can you honestly blame him?" He paused, having just computed the other man's abrupt appearance. "…Have you been in there long?"

"Too bloody long for my liking," Bakura grumbled, stretching. "I was starting to think he'd never leave. If it weren't for three thousand years spent inside of a ring, I'd've developed claustrophobia just now."

"Fascinating," Atem stated, looking at the thief with interest.

Bakura scowled. "What?"

"Your use of a large word," the pharaoh replied, perfectly straight-faced. "Incredible. Have you been reading the dictionary lately?"

At which point Bakura decided to fling all attempts at patience to the metaphorical winds and throw the nearest heavy object—a toaster, incidentally—at his foe's unnaturally pointy and colorful head.

…

The next day (after Bakura was woken up by another gleefully vengeful Pharaoh prank—a spoonful of Ryo's leftover vegetable stew being ladled into his sleeping mouth, thank you very much), the hunt continued.

Or rather, Bakura sat at the kitchen table (looking highly reminiscent of a zombie in one of his horror movies) hoping for the _means_ for such a continuation to fall out of the sky.

His options were dwindling, and why? He'd been the King of Thieves _long_ before the moron in the green tights went about stealing from rich people (and giving the profits to the poor—hence, "moron"). He didn't _need_ a job. He'd never needed one. Theoretically, he could steal whatever he wanted. Ryo had simply used the whole thing as an excuse to keep his more chaotic counterpart busy.

So why was Bakura still playing along? _He_ was the one in control here, after all.

The answer was fairly obvious: Bakura loathed losing. And quitting was _always_ equated with losing. He would prove his doubters wrong on this or he would get arrested trying.

Nodding to himself, Bakura headed for the computer. It was time to find something different. Something simple. Something…_foolproof_.

…

Somehow the requirements of 'different', 'simple' and 'foolproof' had become linked to hospitals somewhere in Bakura's twisted mind. Somehow. Which was how he found himself at the front desk of Domino Hospital, lying through his teeth and doing it well.

"So…you're the new intern? Tomoya Hanasaki?" the woman was asking him skeptically.

"Of course," Bakura replied. And he might as well be—the real Hanasaki had had all the tires of his car mysteriously slashed that morning. His phone cords had all been mysteriously cut as well, so that he (conveniently) couldn't phone police or repairmen. His alarm clock had also been flushed down a public toilet. Mysteriously.

"Then why," she asked with a frown, "does the name on your resume say 'Ryo Bakura'?"

Damn. He really should have thought of that one.

"It's a nickname," he replied smoothly. "Inside joke."

The woman went back to eyeing his resume doubtfully. His _new and improved_ resume.

It had occurred to Bakura sometime after Pan's laughing fit that perhaps his resume was not quite up to snuff. Not every employer was going to have a sense of humor. So before setting out, he had modified the document. He'd removed some bits, added others, and was rather pleased with the result.

…

_Name: Ryo Bakura_

_Goal: To find a cure for cancer._

_Experience: A week at Doctor Camp learning how to heal injured kittens._

_Interests: Healing injured kittens, hence the week spent at Doctor Camp. In my spare time, working on creating world peace. And curing cancer, as that is my goal (see above)._

_Awards: Employee of the Month Award at multiple respectable establishments._

…

Really, now—what employer could resist _that_? Sometimes Bakura truly enjoyed living in a world of schmucks.

The desk lady finally rubbed her temples and spoke again. "Well, Mr. Hanasaki, we already checked your credentials when you first called about the job, so I suppose you pass." She pointed down a hallway. "Third door on the left. Doctor Yabu will be with you shortly."

Bakura pasted on a saccharine smile. "Thank you."

He started walking down the hallway, nose twitching. In hindsight, a hospital had not been his best choice. He loathed the antiseptic smell. It gave him a bigger migraine even than one of Ryo's "why-do-you-do-these-things-to-me-are-you-_trying_-to-give-me-an-anuerism?" lectures. Honestly. If the sitcoms were to be believed, living with the boy was almost like being married.

Trying very, _very_ hard to push that image from his mind, Bakura opened the third door.

The room was large enough. Everything was either a sickeningly pristine white or made of glittering, shiny metal. There was a bed with a body in it. IV drips and other medical devices Bakura had no knowledge of were protruding from it.

The body—which, upon closer inspection, appeared to be a small female—glanced up at him and smiled a wan little smile.

"Hi," she said. "Who're you?"

Bakura blinked. "Hanasaki. Apparently."

"Nice to meet you, Hanasaki." She eyed the ceiling thoughtfully. "Can I call you Hana for short?"

"…If you absolutely feel you must." Ra smite him the day he felt compelled to pick fights with a _child_.

"My name's Tomoko. Are you the new nurse?"

Now, _that_ one simply couldn't be allowed to pass. "Nurse?" Bakura repeated irritably. "Do I look like a nurse to you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Who else would you be?"

"I am an intern, for your information."

"Oh. Okay. What's the difference between a nurse and an 'intern', anyway?"

Well. She rather had him there.

She also had a very short attention span, Bakura discovered. Not five seconds later she was asking him another question.

"Do you like games?"

An evil smirk almost fought its way to the surface. If she only knew. "I do. I'm quite fond of them, in fact."

"I like them too. But I'm not very good at them."

"That's very sad," Bakura replied, glancing around for any escape routes (should one become necessary). He was already getting bored. What exactly was he supposed to be doing here, any-

"The only game I ever win at is Duel Monsters."

The thief's gaze snapped right back onto Tomoko.

"Really."

She nodded. "I like to watch the tournaments and stuff when they're on TV."

"Is that so." His eyes narrowed. "I suppose you're a fan of the Pha—of Yugi Mutou, then."

"Umm, he's okay. I mean, he's really awesome at Dueling and everything, but using those God card things kind of seem like…cheating, I guess. I like Katsuya Jonouchi the best." She blushed and Bakura barely restrained an eye roll. _Really_. How old was this kid?

"Do you play the game at all?" she inquired.

He smirked. "I was in the Battle City Finals a few years back."

Her eyes widened. "Battle City? Really? I missed it when they televised that one. I was really upset, but they couldn't move the surgery date so I ended up having to look up the results. I guess everybody knew Yugi was going to win, anyway."

Bakura snorted.

…

The next few days went smoothly enough. Domino wasn't exactly a city filled to the brim with injuries, so basically all Bakura'd had to so far was watch Doctor Yabu in action and carry a few towels.

Mostly he ended up spending time with the girl. She liked Duel Monsters and knew a fair amount about the game, making her easily a thousand times more interesting than any of the other patients. On Bakura's third day as an official intern she produced her prized deck, the contents of which withered his soul. The cards collected were almost all common ones, and any strategies he could glean from them were depressingly amateurish. Not to mention the girl's choice of monsters left much to be desired:

"Kuriboh? You have a _Kuriboh_ in your Dueling deck?"

She glared back defensively. "What's wrong with that?"

"Do you have a Shift trap?"

A shake of the head.

"What about Multiply?"

Another shake of the head.

"Then why keep such a pitiful little monster in your deck?"

"Because…it's cute?"

Little girls. Bakura internally wept for the future of the game—that is, until he reached the bottom of the deck.

"…Call of the Haunted?"

She grinned. "My cousin gave it to me. It helps me win a lot of the time."

Hmm. Maybe there was hope after all. But still, it was clear that this deck needed help. Bakura straightened.

"Pay attention," he instructed in a tone that held no room for argument. He withdrew his own deck from a coat pocket. "I am going to show you how to compile a _truly_ terrifying deck…"

…

It was day five of hospital work and Bakura was beginning to feel that hijacking the real Hanasaki's internship was one of the best strategic moves he had ever made. Barely any real work to be done, decent pay, easy to maintain—_and_ he was getting to teach an impressionable young mind all about the best ways to Duel. Tomoko was a fair apprentice, even if it did get a tad boring going at a quarter-strength all the time. She didn't even talk too much. Bakura was not a fan of children that talked.

Today, however, seemed to be an exception. Tomoko was babbling up a relative storm. Her already short attention span had shrunk. Bakura had already been signed in almost two hours and they hadn't even gotten through one practice duel.

"What is the problem?" he finally snapped. "Why are you being so…_chatty_?"

"Chatty?" she squeaked. "Am I being chatty? I don't think I'm…" She caught sight of the look on Bakura's face and bit her lip.

"Umm…sorry, Hana. I'm just tired, I think."

"Then there's no point in Dueling," Bakura pointed out sharply, loathe to miss a teaching opportunity. "Never pick a fight of any kind when you're at a disadvantage…unless, of course, you have a pre-decided cheating strategy mapped out."

"Right. I understand."

"Good." He gathered his cards and stood, tone crisp. "Go to sleep. I'll explain the finer points of Occult deck usage tomorrow."

"Okay."

Bakura closed the door behind him, unimpressed with the kid's lying skills. That would have to be the next thing to tutor her in.

Breaking into the hospital's patient records was simple to the point where Bakura almost felt pity for the people maintaining them. Clearly they didn't know any better, poor miserable creatures.

_Tomoko Hadashi. There you are…_

…

_Domino Hospital Patient File #567_

_Name: Tomoko Hadashi_

_Age: 9_

_Ailment: See attached file_

_Recent Updates:_

_11/23 Patient seems to be stabilizing. Continue with regular medicine administration._

_11/30 Patient has relapsed. Administer higher dosages?_

_12/5 Higher dosages not fixing the problem. Dr. Kimie recommends surgery._

_12/8 Surgery discussed w/ patient's family. Financial problems rendering it improbable (see insurance information, page 4). Discuss experimental treatment?_

…

There was a lot of medical psychobabble to sift through, but Bakura managed to get the gist. The girl needed some sort of surgery for some disease he couldn't begin to pronounce, and for some reason the family was unable to afford it.

This was exactly why thievery should not have been allowed to die out as an art form.

Bakura flipped through a few more pages (for such a young patient, the girl's file was abnormally thick) to find out just how much this surgery was going to cost. The answer was enough to merit an eyebrow raise.

There was an idea nudging at the back of his brain. A dusty, mostly unused corner of his brain—the one that provided rational thought—was insisting that the idea was a rather terrible one. The thief frowned and reexamined the updates section. It looked like the only other option at the moment was some vague "experimental treatment".

Bakura twitched at the choice of words. He was fine with experimentation in general, particularly when it involved plumbing and/or explosives, but when so-called professionals and people in power started experimenting, nothing good could come of it.

The experiment that resulted in the Millennium Items came to mind.

More specifically, Kul Elna came to mind.

He scowled.

Stupidity be damned. Tomoko was shaping up to be the finest (never mind only) pupil he'd ever had, and hell if he was going to let a bunch of clueless _doctors_ "experiment" on her.

Ohhh no. The only one screwing around with his student's young mind and possibly giving her a few mental scars would be him.

…

Perhaps his righteous fury was to blame for not noticing the danger until it was too late. All he knew was that by the time he finished robbing the bank, breaking into Tomoko's home (the address had been in the file—really, what idiots), depositing the money in the microwave where _someone_ was sure to find it and signing out of work, someone had gotten wise. Probably the secretary at the hospital. He'd never liked her.

They got him in the parking lot.

With _tranquilizer darts_.

Bakura truly, utterly and completely _loathed_ law enforcement.

**TBC**

**A/N: Don't kill me yet. JHFP is nearing its conclusion, so don't kill me yet.**


	12. Chapter Eleven: Busted

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**A/N: Thanks Shantih, Pyrohedgehog333, FireGoddess101, PKLOVEOMEGA, Velgamidragon, YamiBakura1988, aem82, looptheloopy, Tender Loving Care, Upsilon Four, RiverTear980, iceriver223, somnium32, wolfen princess14, Always a Bookworm, Do The Cool Whip, Canon Corruptor, marikforlife or lyfe, Princesa Blanca, DBZ-Fangrl, SeekerofAncientLegend, Kitsune Demon Girl, Tea1706, PuppyProngs and Pikana! I am stunned and grateful that you guys stuck around…thank you, really. :) **

**Hate your face, ffnet. Thanks for keeping me from updating for the last couple days.**

**Anyway. Enjoy!**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter Eleven**

…

By the time the tranquilizers wore off (_Are those even __**legal**__?_), Bakura found himself dumped in a shoebox-sized cell in the local prison, sharing breathing space with several of Domino's most notorious criminals.

This is to say, shoplifters and burglars and others of the ilk that made Bakura feel extraordinarily evil in comparison. It was quite the ego boost after not sending anyone to the Shadows for so long. Of course they thought they were—Bakura believed the term was "badass"—at first, ready to gang up on the "pretty new boy". They thought of themselves as seasoned lawbreakers. They thought their adorable little petty thefts and occasional loitering indictments were things to be proud of.

Naturally, all it took was a gleefully psychotic smirk and a few…choice remarks to sort _that_ little misunderstanding out.

Bakura found the tiny cell seemed much bigger when one had two-thirds of it all to oneself.

The cops allowed him his one phone call, unfortunately being smart enough not to let him out from behind bars in the process. He punched in Ryo's phone number, scowling when he got voicemail (a disgustingly _normal_ voicemail—the boy had obviously been taking advantage of Bakura's absence to tamper with the answering machine message).

The message he left was brief.

"I'm in prison. Get over here and bail me out before I get bored." There was no reason to specify what would happen if he did get bored—the boy had become quite adept at using his imagination over the years.

…

Ryo, as expected, went postal.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't leave you in there," he hissed. His eyes were narrowed into slits and he was wearing a look of pure fury—actually, Bakura was rather impressed; his host almost looked like him.

Still, there was no question as to who would win this little battle. "I could give you many," the thief drawled, "but for one, you may recall a certain conversation in which you 'shuddered to imagine what I could come up with in the company of a bunch of fellow nutcases'." He gestured simply to his terrified-looking fellow inmates.

There was really no arguing with that. Ryo knew it, and his helpless rage was siphoned away until he looked like he might burst into tears.

He walked away in silence, presumably to pay the bail money, as Atem stepped forward. He seemed to be fighting with every fiber of his holier-than-thou being not to laugh.

"Some things never change," he remarked.

"Oh, _please_," Bakura replied scornfully. "Not one puffed-up politician or pitiful priest of the old world ever caught me."

"Fair enough." Atem shrugged. "I would think it would depress you, being caught by modern law enforcement without any magic whatsoever. Millennia of avoiding capture…and now the record has been broken by some policemen with tranquilizers." He smiled wistfully. "How far the fall from grace."

Bakura glared with undiluted hatred at his longstanding rival. "Be sure to check your bed tonight," he growled. "You may find a few scorpions have escaped their enclosure."

"Oh, I don't think that will be a problem." Atem smirked. "You'll be lucky if Ryo decides to give you the time of day before he throws you out."

"He won't throw me out," the thief king replied dryly. "He wants to keep me in his sights."

"About that," the Pharaoh began casually. "You haven't been holding down that Santa job, have you?"

Bakura just about choked on his own spit, but was spared having to respond by the return of his lighter side and a cop.

The cop released him to what Bakura could have sworn was a sigh of relief from the other prisoners. Ryo turned away without a word; both criminal and king followed him to the parking lot.

…

The ride back to Ryo's house was not Bakura's favorite in recent memory. Ryo himself drove in stony silence, which Bakura found extremely disconcerting. He was used to hearing his host rage and sputter and generally be a complete sissy about the issue before burning himself out and retreating. The change did not bode well.

Bakura, for his part, would have been gnawing on his nails if he were a weaker-willed soul. The damned Pharaoh knew something—how he'd figured it out, Bakura had no idea, but he _knew_. All that was left to wonder about was what Atem would do with the information. Psychological torment resulting in paranoia? No, Bakura mused, that sounded like something _he_ would do, not the king who fought with the Power of Friendship.

Blackmail? Now that was more likely.

Or, possibly worse, he would just tell Ryo flat out and not get anything out of it except the joy that came with foiling all of Bakura's plans. Bakura wouldn't put it past the slimy bastard.

Ryo pulled into the driveway, parked the car and twisted in his seat to face Bakura.

"I got a call from a woman named Natsue Nakaoka today," he said calmly. "Do you know her? She works as a secretary for Domino Hospital."

_I knew it. I __**knew**__ it, that little—_

"Apparently a 'suspicious individual' showed up at the hospital a few days ago looking for an internship," Ryo continued. "The name on his resume was different from the name on record. The resume itself also seemed like a fake."

Bakura glared. He had worked hard on that resume.

"So she did a bit of digging until she found a Ryo Bakura registered in the area. Which, of course, was me. We got to talking and then she decided to call the police." Ryo smiled a smile that often preceded brutal murder. "Care to explain?"

In the backseat, Atem snickered. Bakura ignored him, trying furiously to think up a lie that would get him out of this mess.

He came up short and the silence stretched on. Finally, Ryo exhaled slowly.

"You haven't been holding down that job at the mall then, I presume."

It wasn't a question. At least now he knew how the Pharaoh knew.

"Did you kill anyone during your stint at the hospital?"

A thousand snarky answers floated immediately to the surface of his brain, but one look at the disturbing smile still on Ryo's face told Bakura that in this instance, simplicity was key.

"No."

"Thank god. I won't have that on my conscience." He sounded considerably less homicidal now. In fact, he sounded almost normal again.

Bakura suddenly had a very bad feeling.

"Atem and I talked things over with the police. Due to the number of times he and Yugi have saved the world from various psychopaths—" Ryo shot his dark side a very pointed look, which was ignored "—charges are not being pressed. You've managed to make quite the spectacle of yourself in the working world, however, so I doubt anyone will be willing to hire you again."

Bakura considered asking how that could be a bad thing. Wisely, he felt, he decided to err on the side of caution and keep quiet.

"As it turns out, this should make things interesting, seeing as you'll be sleeping in the shed until you pay me back my bail money."

Bakura almost laughed at the stupidity. He wasn't the Thief King for nothing. _Obviously_.

However: "If I catch wind of any convenient robberies, the payment will be null and void, so don't even think about it."

…_Damn it all, he's actually learning._

"Oh." Ryo snapped his fingers. "One more thing. Atem got a call from Yugi this morning. He'll be home in three days. I suppose you'd better get used to having them over a lot more often."

He climbed out of the car and shut the door perhaps harder than was necessary. Atem followed suit, leaving Bakura for once stunned temporarily silent.

…

The twit was as bad as his word. By the time Bakura gathered his wits once more he found the front and back doors locked and barricaded, the windows shut and apparently nailed over with wooden boards. Even the window he'd broken had been fixed in his absence and received the same treatment.

Extremely irritated but too tired to do anything about it, Bakura resigned himself to the shed. At least it was dark, if incredibly dusty. And there were always a variety of large spiders if he _really_ got desperate for food.

He curled up in a corner of the dim little structure, various gardening tools poking him from every angle, and pondered what life would be like with the Pharaoh and the midget coming over _all the time_. Yugi probably wouldn't exploit it too much, but Bakura had no doubt Atem would use that extra house key until his foe went mad. Completely mad, anyway.

It was a horrific prospect—first having to share the house with those absurd felines Ryo loved so much, and now _this_?—but what was there to be done? Even if some employer out there was still stupid enough to hire him (and Bakura had great faith in the idiocy of the general public), three days fell abysmally short of the week required to save him from his fate.

Yugi was coming home, which left the Thief King utterly done for.

The reality of it sank in with a seemingly audible thud. Defeated, Bakura edged onto his side (trying to ignore the rake tangling in his hair) and closed his eyes.

**TBC**


	13. Chapter Twelve: Cameras and Tshirts

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**A/N: Thanks to FireGoddess101, looptheloopy, Velgamidragon, Tender Loving Care, YamiBakura1988, Saphire4260, PKLOVEOMEGA, TTY7, Canon Corruptor, Pikana and Kitsune Demon Girl!**

**Just so it's clear—I am in no way, shape or form seriously comparing my fic to LittleKuriboh's masterpiece. The comic genius of YGOTAS surpasses all mortal comprehension. XD**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Chapter Twelve**

…

A sharp point jabbed him in the side. It was an effective waker-upper, if not an enjoyable one. Swearing a mental blue streak Bakura sat up, expecting it was another one of the Pharaoh's despicable wakeup methods. Laying eyes on the intruder, however, he saw not his nemesis but—

"Malik? What are _you_ doing here?"

His fellow psychopath stood before him gripping a pitchfork that had been lying around, looking something like the devil's rebellious son.

"I had something I thought you'd find interesting. But first…why are you sleeping in the shed? Did having windows become too much for you?"

"As it happens," the thief responded loftily, "I am perfectly at home in this little black box, surrounded by sharp objects. Sheds are good places. In fact, I highly _recommend_ sleeping in sheds."

"…Oh really." Malik smirked. "And the fact that your hikari, to quote my own, 'kicked you out' had nothing to do with it?"

"Put a lid on it, you impudent little brat," Bakura snapped. "What do you want?"

"So rude," was the dry response. Regardless, Malik produced a laptop out of nowhere and opened it with a flourish. "Take a look."

Bakura took the laptop and eyed the screen cynically. Even with his limited knowledge of the internet he could recognize a Youtube page. The video was titled "Job Hunting for Psychopaths."

He raised an eyebrow and cast a glance at Malik. The blond's smirk only widened.

"Go ahead. Play it."

Bakura complied and was promptly greeted with a shaky video recording of…himself, standing in the middle of Domino Groceries, along with the kid who was supposed to be his supervisor.

"_It's the easiest job in the whole store. You can't possibly mess it up."_

The Thief King watched, fascinated, as his past self went around depositing apples and whatnot. Looking for signs. Chowing down on a box of cereal. Insulting customers.

Ah, the fond memories.

When the video finished, Bakura looked to Malik for an explanation. Which he was all too happy to give.

"I was bored, so I decided to follow you around. Did you think Marik and I 'just happened' to walk by while you were out playing Mooey the Cow?" He snickered at the recollection before continuing. "I had a gut feeling that things would get interesting and brought a video camera to tape your exploits. I had it hidden during the Shake Shack incident, of course."

"Impossible," Bakura said in disbelief. "I would have seen you. I would have _sensed_ you."

"The Force is not strong in you," Malik replied, straight-faced. "And I am capable of being _very_ discreet when I so desire. Anyway." He pointed to the screen again. "I thought it would be interesting to see the general public's reaction, hence Youtube, and now look. Over twenty million views and counting—and that's for one video alone. After I posted the plumbing episode there were so many new subscribers that Marik's computer crashed."

"But—but _why_?" Bakura sputtered.

Malik shrugged. "You know people these days. They'll watch anything. Half my viewers are convinced it's a documentary; the other half thinks it's fake. I've had several comments saying this is the funniest thing since 'Yu-Gi-Oh The Abridged Series'."

"What the hell is that?"

"No clue, but apparently it's big. On the other hand, at least ten people have commented calling you 'Florence', so who knows how accurate these people are at judging anything? What matters is the view count. I'm already designing the T-shirts."

Bakura was barely listening anymore. The gears were turning quickly in his head.

"Let's take it one step further," he said, a wicked grin beginning to work its way across his face. "Just how long have you been posting these?"

…

Three days passed in a flash and before he knew it the door to the shed was creaking open. Ryo, having long since smartened up when it came to Bakura's penchant for booby trapping his doors, pointedly avoided stepping over the threshold.

"Bakura? Are you in there?"

The thief king accepted his host's reluctance to step inside with a mental sigh. All that time spent gathering spiders to dump on the boy's unsuspecting head—wasted. Oh well.

"What do you want?" he replied succinctly.

"To let you know that Yugi's plane just landed. He'll be here for Atem within the hour; I suppose I'll be giving them the spare key then as well." Ryo sounded uncharacteristically self-satisfied. Bakura _almost_ felt sorry for him, except that the memory of a certain cow suit kept poking into his brain and preventing it.

As it was, he simply shrugged. "Very well. Is that all?"

Ryo blinked. He'd been braced for a long, drawn-out verbal battle. "Yes, I suppose it is."

He turned to leave and Bakura made his move.

"Oh yes…Ryo?"

Ryo turned. "What is it?"

There was the sound of rummaging from within the shed. Ryo tried to ignore his sudden sinking feeling. After a few moments Bakura appeared at the doorway of the shed and held something out, the usual smug smile back in its rightful place.

"The repayment of my bail money," he explained, giving the stack of cash in his open palm a nod. "I tire of sleeping out in the cold among the gardening tools."

Ryo stared at the money. "But—_how_?" he demanded. "I've been keeping an eye on banks and wealthy homes in the area for days! I bought a police scanner for that sole purpose! No job pays that well in the time you had—Bakura, what did you _do_?"

Bakura bit back a maniacal snicker. He paused for effect, providing just enough time for visions of yakuza connections and espionage to dance through his lighter side's head, before continuing.

"This is small change to a celebrity such as myself," he said offhandedly. "The T-shirts sold surprisingly well. Malik and I have been working on a DVD release, planning for Blu Ray in…oh, February or so."

His smile broadened as Ryo gaped, flabbergasted. "You underestimated me. I've been playing movie star right under your nose for well over the required week." In case it wasn't perfectly clear already, Bakura decided to state the obvious:

"I win, Ryo."

The person being addressed was still staring in disbelief at the money in Bakura's hand. His mouth was opening and closing silently, rather like that of a fish. Eventually he shut it for good with a snap, took the money, and exhaled very slowly.

"You will be assisting us in removing the boards from the windows," was all he said.

"And you will be handing that spare key over to me, so that I may have the express pleasure of melting it down to lava," Bakura replied in a tone that almost resembled cheer.

Ryo turned back to the house without another word. Bakura, cackling shamelessly, followed him.

**TBC**

**A/N: Epilogue time, methinks. Almost there…almost there…!**


	14. Epilogue: Fair Play

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any characters therein.

**A/N: Thanks to Always a Bookworm, Owl-Lady, Aristania, TTY7, FireGoddess101, looptheloopy, PKLOVEOMEGA, Akatsukimember54, Tender Loving Care, Lioutenant Flame, 9shadowcat9 and Velgamidragon (who also gets props for foresight—you'll see)!**

**The epilogue. Enjoy. :)**

**Job Hunting for Psychopaths: Epilogue**

…

"Well, that was interesting," was all Atem had to say about it. The first thing Bakura had done upon reentering the house was wrench the boards off of a window (with his bare hands, no less) and throw all of his erstwhile roommate's things out onto the lawn with an unholy measure of glee.

"That's certainly one word for it," Ryo sighed, switching the phone to his other ear. "I'm sorry about your things; I'll make him pay for anything that's broken."

"Save your sanity," the pharaoh advised. "It's fine. Anyway, you let me live in your home—I think that makes us even."

"Yugi happy to be home?"

"Very much so. I think America was a little loud for him; he hasn't left his room since we got back."

Ryo snorted. "Sounds like someone else I know. Thank you for your help with everything, by the way. I really do appreciate it."

"Any time. I have to say, making the whole thing revolve around a bet was a good touch."

"Yes, well." Ryo shrugged to himself. "I knew that if _you_ bet against Bakura being able to do something, he would go out of his way to succeed in doing it. I doubt he would have kept up with the whole job hunting fiasco if he didn't have that in the back of his mind."

Atem chuckled. "I wonder if he'll realize you were manipulating him the whole time."

"For my sake let's hope he never does. Besides…I am never going to attempt anything like this again. I thought that getting Bakura a job would be perfect—it would keep him busy and out of my hair. But this whole thing was an utter disaster. It's a miracle nobody was killed in the process."

"Agreed. Keep the rabid dog on a short leash?"

"Essentially. Although I talked to Marik recently, and I don't think he quite grasps that concept…"

…

Bakura was feeling good. A week had elapsed since the end of the great job hunting quest, and he felt it had been a rather productive one.

After cheerfully tossing all of the Pharaoh's things out of the nearest window, he had proceeded to build a bonfire in the backyard and destroy the spare house key with great ceremony. It took awhile. Key metal, evidently, did not melt as easily as gold had. The ritual ended up lasting until some ungodly hour of the morning, but Ryo didn't bother trying to dissuade him and none of the neighbors were feeling brave. So melt the key did, with Bakura grinning into the flames the entire time.

With Atem gone at long last, the thief was able to retake his room. He went out and acquired a few cans of black paint to cover up the hellish purple Atem had chosen, as well as the window. The window same was nailed shut once more as well. Any posters that his ex-roommate had foolishly left behind were either put through the paper shredder or used as lining for the scorpion's cage. With his room reclaimed, Bakura felt glorious. He started to feel like himself again.

However, it quickly became clear that his escapades were not soon to be forgotten. Bakura found he needed to be extremely careful concerning which establishments he entered these days—he'd had to run from security at least three times in the mall alone, and Ryo ruefully informed him that, due to their unfortunate resemblance, he'd been stopped at the door of Domino Groceries twice in as many days.

Then there were the geeks. The internet fanatics. The tech-savvy. Even the everyday individuals who happened to stumble upon the latest Youtube phenomenon. In the last week Bakura had been stared at, pointed at, and giggled at more than he could possibly be used to. He'd even been stopped for pictures once or twice. But for every adoring fan that just wanted to breathe the same air as the titular psychopath in Malik's videos, there were a few young punks who made sure he could never escape the reputation of Mooey the Cow. And then Bakura made sure they could never escape the reputation of having wet their pants in public.

Such were the hazards (and perks) of being an internet celebrity, he supposed.

Then there had been Tomoko to deal with. Despite hospital security, which had increased sevenfold since the news broke that a criminal had walked among them without anybody noticing, Bakura decided to check in on his erstwhile pupil anyway. After all, he wanted to ensure that the cash had gone to its intended use. He would be _extremely_ pissed if it turned out he went to prison for nothing.

Quite luckily for those involved, the money had indeed been spent as intended. He found the girl in her hospital bed, tired but smiling.

"Hi, Hana."

He didn't bother to correct her. "Have you been practicing the Vampire Lord/Multiply combo?"

"Yup. You were right; it works a lot better than my old strategy."

"Of course I'm right," he responded sternly.

"But you won't be able to teach me here anymore," Tomoko added, grinning. "I'm being dis-disch-umm…"

"Discharged?" the thief suggested dryly.

"Yeah, that. The last surgery worked, I guess. They're gonna let me go home."

"Ah." He smirked, feeing somewhat pleased with himself. No "experimental treatments" for _his_ student, thank you very much.

"My mommy said the money came from the microwave. She said an angel put it there. I don't get it, but…"

An angel. An _angel_. Bakura could swear he felt internal organs rupture as he fought back the urge to howl with laughter.

"…so you're gonna have to come and visit me at home from now on," Tomoko finished.

Bakura stiffened. "I do not make house calls."

"It's okay, you won't have to call first. You can just come over."

Small children and their stunted vocabularies. Bakura exhaled irritably. "That's not what-"

"I told my cousin Shinji about you," she continued. "He says there's no way you can beat him. I told him you could. He says if you win he'll let me borrow his Dark Spirit of the Silent trap card for my first tournament."

The thief's eyes narrowed. "How old is this cousin of yours?"

"Seventeen."

The dark laughter bubbled up from within again. Seventeen. Some teenage punk thought he could beat the King of Thieves? And at Duel Monsters besides?

"All right," he said once he had himself under control again. "I suppose I could make an exception, just this once. But we'll have to conduct the duel elsewhere." Her parents would probably recognize him right away, which would throw a wrench into any possible proceedings.

Satisfied that his work here was done, Bakura opened the window and exited the way he had entered. Mentally he tried to determine the most humiliating possible way to beat the puffed-up twit he would be Dueling. Perhaps he would even bring Yugi's idiot friend Jonouchi along. The intellectually challenged duo could commiserate, and Tomoko would be thrilled.

_...Wait, __**what**__?_

Bakura was aware that he'd just considered doing a good deed and, thoroughly annoyed with himself, decided to go exact some form of petty and illegal revenge against the hospital secretary to make up for it.

…

Smirking at the memory of just what said revenge had entailed (that woman would certainly be thinking twice before calling the cops on him again), Bakura leaned back against the inside of the shed. He had grown surprisingly fond of the shed and all its shadowy, spider-infested corners. In fact, he was considering turning it into his own personal lounge.

He closed his eyes and began to picture it—no lights, naturally, but perhaps a secret wall panel behind which he could hide his contraband—as someone shoved open the door. Bakura didn't bother opening his eyes at first (the booby trap should take care of any intruders without him having to lift a finger), but did so when a lack of screaming became apparent.

There stood Malik, covered in the spiders that had been dumped on him from above and looking perfectly unconcerned. Bakura sighed.

"What now? Did some masochistic moron hack into your JHFP Youtube account again?"

The blond Egyptian just looked at him, expression caught in some odd place between laughter and fury. Wordlessly he held something out.

A video camera. Bakura raised an eyebrow.

"What's this about?"

"It would appear we're about to double our profits," Malik replied in a strained tone. He sounded like he didn't know whether to be happy or livid.

"And why is that?" Bakura asked, grinning as he figured it out. Malik opened his mouth again and confirmed his suspicions:

"Marik is insisting that I find myself a job. He's going to invite the entirety of Team Friendship to stay with us for a week if…"

Bakura didn't hear the rest; he was too busy clutching his sides and laughing like the maniac he was.

"I recommend the Shake Shack," he managed to gasp before dissolving into hysteria again.

Turnabout is fair play, after all.

**The End**

**A/N: Aaaaaand that's all, folks! JHFP is finally finished. Can we all do a little happy dance now? xD  
Huge, huge thank-you to everyone who reviewed, Favorited, Alerted, whatever. Those of you who actually stuck with this story through the ridiculously sporadic updates and everything else, even bigger thank-you. I don't deserve you guys!**

**Hope you enjoyed Job Hunting for Psychopaths! Over and out, SkywardShadow.**


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